#it ends a little abruptly I know but I wanted it posted before I dug into another setpiece

[the-and-sign-anon]

The Third Independent: 5

Word count: 1,697

Series Masterlist

Forty-Seven Years Post-Fall

Brad sat at the work table trying to focus as you paced around him. Your steps were light and silent as always, but he was still getting tense the longer it went on. 

“Y/N, do you need to go somewhere else?”

You stopped abruptly and tilted your head.

“No, I’m okay here.”

“I think you should go somewhere else.”

“Why?”

He set down his tools and gave you a tired look. 

“Because you’re pacing and while I can’t hear you, I can feel your eyes. You’re doing that weird predator thing again.”

You shrunk in on yourself a little bit. It really wasn’t something you did on purpose. Usually. This time. 

“Sorry, Brad.”

“This is delicate work, I can’t rush it if you want it to function properly. And even then, you need to keep your expectations reasonable. There’s no guarantee it’ll be as reliable as you hope.”

You nodded and mouthed along with his words. He’d told you a hundred times since you asked for this favor. As much as he tried to deny it, he did have a soft spot for you and he didn’t like seeing you upset. It was both why he’d agreed to do this and why he honestly really hoped it would work. He couldn’t take you moping around missing Vash anymore.

Since Brad had been nice enough to help, you decided to cut him some slack and left the room to go outside. You slipped your coat off and folded it nicely before setting it on the ground just beside the door. Your feet dug into the hot sand, burying your toes as the buzzing of more Worms grew louder. 

You braced yourself for a moment, then took off across the dunes. You were as sure-footed as ever, running through the swarms of bugs and making wide, sweeping turns around the ship. When you felt ready, you leapt up in the air and felt your feathers and wings sprout as your limbs elongated. You hit the ground with a hard thud and ran even faster, leaving dust clouds in your wake. 

You followed the Worms into the sky next, stretching your wings and feeling your body leave the ground. It wasn’t easy at first, but you’d been practicing for the last three years to grow your strength. It was almost second nature now, soaring through the sky with your oldest friends as the suns warmed you through and through. 

When the suns were setting and the Worms began to glow, you lowered yourself to the ground carefully. You picked up your coat and waved goodbye to your friends before ducking down to get inside. Your room was your first stop, where you let your feathers shed before tucking them into your ever-changing nest. The snowy white feathers were one of your favorite additions, especially knowing they came from you. Vash always seemed to like them too. 

The walk back to Brad’s work room was short and you spent it trying to keep your nerves managed. You honestly didn’t want to disrupt his efforts to help. The door slid open quietly and you stepped in slowly. Your hands were tucked into your coat as you came closer, then settled on a bench at the end of the table. 

“Have a good flight?”

You hummed pleasantly and rested your head in your hand. You certainly weren’t as good at this kind of stuff as Brad, but you were pretty good. You could help maintain Vash’s arm whenever he came to visit at least. This project was beyond you though.

Brad was enjoying the quiet as you watched him work. You weren’t watching as intensely now, so his body wasn’t in fight or flight mode anymore. That made the work easier. He didn’t think anything of your silence until your head slipped out from your hand and landed on the tabletop with a dull thud.

His eyes flickered over to check on you, but you didn’t even flinch. 

“Dead to the world. Finally.”

Brad set down his tools and stood up to stretch. Then he carefully slung one of your arms over his shoulder and pulled you to your feet. He would never have even attempted to approach you in your sleep in the early years, but once he watched Luida help you to your room a few times and how you weren’t the least bit concerned, he was willing to try. This was the third time it had happened during the last few weeks he’d been awake. 

You leaned heavily into Brad’s side as he maneuvered you down the halls to your room. Your head rolled around a bit when he opened your door and shuffled sideways through it. Then he tried to gingerly set you on your nest, but your knees gave out and you flopped right into the middle. He watched for a moment as you curled up around your blankets, tucking your face into the pillow that once belonged to Vash. 

Brad sighed softly. You looked so sweet and peaceful like this. All the things that reminded him you weren’t human disappeared when you fell asleep. Your age, your pain, your abilities; it was all swept away by your even breathing and the serene expression on your face. 

He turned away and left the room. He had more to do before your little project would be ready, but he needed some rest too for now. 

A week later, it was ready. It was a feat of engineering in Brad’s opinion. You were so happy when he showed you, practically bouncing on your feet. 

“It’s perfect Brad. Thank you so so much!”

You hugged him, short but tight, almost giving him a flash of the feeling of suffocating before you let go. 

“Yeah, alright, kid. You can let go.”

You smiled excitedly as you stepped aside. 

“Vash said he’d come back soon. I can’t wait to show him.”

You carefully took hold of your surprise and left to put it in your room. You’d show it to Vash as soon as he came home next. He promised you last time he’d only be gone for four years. You were a matter of weeks from the four year mark, although you knew it wasn’t likely he’d make it right on time. 

You looked over your gift every single day for another five weeks waiting for him to come home. Brad was more than ready to head back into cold sleep, if only to escape your constant wandering and clear anxiety for Vash’s return. On the day he swore to himself he’d just go to sleep and leave you to your own devices no matter how guilty he felt, a loud screech echoed through the halls at an inhuman volume. 

Brad flinched and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the sound until it stopped. He sighed heavily and got to his feet before slowly heading to the dome to check on things. You and Vash were there, wrapped in a tight embrace as Vash laughed. It still unsettled Brad, but you were clearly happy to hear it.

“Mayfly, you’ve gotta get a handle on that, you might shatter the dome one of these days.”

“Oh please, the humans would have built it plenty strong enough. Besides, maybe if you came by more often, I wouldn’t be quite as overwhelmed when I see you.”

You pouted a little at him, which just made him smile more. Brad stood by the door, leaning against the wall. Neither of you acknowledged him, but he knew you were aware of his presence. It freaked him out, but he could never get by you unnoticed. 

He waited for a minute or two, but when neither of you moved to talk to him, he left for his room. Vash would come check in with him eventually. For now, he had some proper peace and quiet. 

“Dove, I have something I want to show you.” 

You grabbed Vash’s hand and pulled him towards your room. He followed without the slightest hesitation. He’d follow you anywhere these days. 

“Care to give me a hint, Mayfly?”

“Nope.”

You sat him down on the bed and made him close his eyes. Then you carefully picked up your gift and placed it in his hands. 

“Okay… you can open your eyes.”

“...Mayfly? Not that I’m not touched that you would want to show me something… but what am I looking at exactly?”

You pulled up the lone chair in your room to sit with your knees pressed into each other. 

“It’s a communication device. Brad helped me build it. Well,” You chuckled a little and rubbed at your neck, “technically he built it. But I asked him to.”

“Tell me more.”

Vash watched with complete adoration as you explained it. There were two small gold earrings, one for each of you. They acted as earpieces and microphones, hopefully over long enough distances to last when Vash left Home. 

“So we can always keep in touch.”

“And this?”

Vash lifted the matching set of pens. 

“Consider that a ‘just in case’ plan. If either of us need to get in touch with anyone else over shorter distances, those function the same way. I’ll have one to keep in touch with whoever is awake around here at any given time. The other one is for you.”

“I don’t have many people I’d be willing to give something this precious to.”

You smiled proudly at the look on his face when he said it. He always promised you no one he met in the towns he went to were as good as you, but it was more comforting to hear it now that you had this. 

“So… did you happen to learn how to pierce ears while I’ve been gone?”

“Of course I did. What do you take me for?”

“An angel.”

You snickered at him and pushed him back, snatching the earrings and pens from his lap. It was a bit tough, especially with how twitchy Vash could be, but you both wore your new earrings by the time you settled into your nest together at the end of the night.

[starryserenade]

Sunflower: A Kingdom Hearts Story

(I'm SO sorry for posting this like a bajillion times, it's so old that I forgot which version was the final version whoops. This SHOULD be right. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go cry for being such an embarrassing mess) Fic Description: In a field of dandelions, a sunflower points the way to the light

Notes: I lost track of what lore is considered canon in KH, especially in terms of newer introductions like the foretellers, so some things may not make complete sense. That said, this is a set in a world created based on a lot of interesting hints and details that all became dead ends (as far as I'm aware). Seeks to give Mickey a more interesting and meaningful role in the world of Kingdom Hearts.

Dug this back up from the depths of the computer after getting an ask from an Anon (thanks for reminding me it exists). I'd forgotten it almost entirely. Literally didn't even know what to write for the description, so have that fun little sentence that was the first thing that popped into my brain.

Enjoy! haha

AO3

~~~

“Why do ya call them Dandelions?” 

“Because,” The mysterious wielder giggled and knelt beside the young boy. “They are all my secret wishes, the seeds I hope to plant for a world I cannot yet see.”   

The little mouse tilted his head, staring thoughtfully at her face with curious eyes that twinkled in the way only children’s do. 

“And why d’ya want me?” 

On these words she stayed silent for some time and her eyes drifted past him to the figure standing just behind, a single lantern swaying in their grip.  They exchanged silent nods and she turned back to the child, smiling softly. 

“Even dandelions cannot persist alone in the dark.  They need the sun to give them strength, and its light to guide them home.”

“I…don’t understand…”

“Little sunflower, I need you to point the way.”

~~~

He stood on the brink of dark and dawn.  To his back lay a sky littered with stars, the whispers of daybreak lingering about them in clouds of pink and blue.  There was a warmth to their shine, but it was fragile, like the flame of a match flickering in a midnight breeze. 

But before him sprawled a sea of shadow, endless and unwavering.  It met with the dawn in a violent clash, nipping at the barrier between and lashing out at every bright flicker that managed to get too close. 

Mickey had cemented himself on the side of the light, as had the others, though he was so close to the border that his shadow fell to the realm beyond.  He sucked in a shaky breath as he looked out at the world before him and did his best to cling to his keyblade.  It wasn’t easy.  A deep gash scarred his shoulder, a recent wound, and every inch of his body screamed and pleaded with him to give into oblivion. 

No, not yet, he scolded himself with what little awareness remained.  Every other bit of thought was focused on scanning the would-be battlefield for the thing he was sure would be his end.  Then it was there.  From deep in the shadows, two eyes blinked open, glowing a deep, bloody red, and Mickey swallowed, resigning himself to the inevitability of what was to come.  It was over.  His blood went cold at the thought and he realized, abruptly and with a curl of his tail, that these were the last moments he would share with the ones beside him.

After hours of standing his ground, he now took a step back. 

~~~

“I wanna go with ‘em!” squealed the boy, and he scrambled to join the keyblade wielders he’d seen rushing outside his window.

“Hm?..Oh!”  Ava leapt from her place and darted to the door, blocking the curious child’s path.  “Ah ah ah!” She wagged her finger playfully, laughing as she always did, even as he pouted.  “You know you have to stay here!”

“But why?” he groaned, ears drooping.  Then his tail twitched, and his voice got soft.  “It’s so lonely.”

Her smile faltered for only a moment before it was replaced by a sunny grin.  “I know, but it won’t be forever, I promise!” she assured him cheerfully. “Right now, we all have our roles…and theirs is just a little bit different than yours.” A wind swept past the window, carrying with it a graceful stream of dandelions, and she let out a quiet breath.  “I know how that feels, believe me.”

She bit her lip even as she spoke the words.

The boy’s eyes fell to the floor and he shuffled his feet.  “I miss Papa…when can I go home?”

Ava didn’t know what to say to that.  Soon?  After the war? 

…Never?

An answer evaded her.

So she kneeled before him and smiled softly.  “Why don’t you show me that new story you were talking about?  The one about the curious girl and her silly rabbit.”

It worked.  He lifted his head and grinned, eyes sparkling as he grabbed her hand and yanked her towards a desk very much his size, where a book sat glittering in the windowlight.  Cheerfully he flung it open and golden beams spilled from its pages.

Ava grinned as a new world took form around them, built piece by piece from those same ribbons of light.  It unfolded at first like the pages of a book, but then the edges softened and the words beneath their feet vanished until this world of make believe was indistinguishable from reality.

And as Mickey led her forward through a flourish of colorful foliage, chattering on about grinning cats and hatters and talking caterpillars (of which Ava could not begin to imagine how they might all connect), she began to realize that he truly knew nothing of his purpose.  To him, this was all a playful game of dream and fantasy, imaginary worlds to pass the lonely days by.

How might the nature of these worlds change, she wondered, if he knew of the weight they held?  Would their bright and childish nature take on a darker hue? 

No, they won’t.  I’m certain of it, she thought silently as she watched him dart back and forth between every curious little thing that caught his eye.  He could not have understood that these stories, these tales born from his own imagination, were so much more than that, were the very hope for the world to come.  But right here, right now, that didn’t matter.  He was a child and his heart was bright, and that was all the light needed to survive.  She had faith in that.

Be brave, my little sunflower.  We need you.

~~~

Starlight thrummed behind him and pulsed through his heart, reminding him of what remained to protect.  The worlds sung.  They were endless wishes, hushed and nearly lost, but all that kept him from running, all that gave him the strength to keep his keyblade in hand.  For with each step, the scarlet eyes grew brighter.  A deep growl like passing thunder echoed across the realm, leaving ripples in the skylit surface beneath Mickey’s feet.  With it, five more pairs of eyes blinked open in the dark, each a different color, every one just as menacing as the next. 

The leader padded into view, an admittedly stunning white lion with a silvery mane.  Its paws were larger than Mickey as a whole, and the mouse shuddered to think what just one swipe of those claws would do to his body.

The other creatures soon joined the lion, bearing the forms of a bear, unicorn, snake, leopard, and scorpion.  Their forms were not like usual animals in the least; if anything, they were far more spectacular.  Designs lay scrawled and shimmering across their pelts, their bodies glowing with light.  Their appearance could be described as no less than otherworldly, and Mickey could liken them only to the spirits he had seen in his dreams.  But even then, they outshone any he could remember.

But he knew now that the light was a falsity, a guise conjured which exemplified their pride in the form of something lovely and deceiving. 

He would not be deceived again.

“We need Sora…” 

The small voice beside him derailed his train of thought and he looked up to find Kairi, hands held to her chest. 

Mickey’s heart sunk.  She was right.  The boy had always been there before.  Each and every time things had looked their bleakest, he had appeared at just the right moment, ready and willing to defy all the odds. 

Not this time.

But still...

“He is here,” Mickey said after a moment, defying every fearful bone in his body as he forced himself to smile.  The other five Lights looked at him in surprise, and he did his best to hide the tears welling in his eyes.  “Awe gosh….don’t tell me ya don’t feel it too.  That’s what made Sora so special, isn’t it?  That no matter where we were, we could always feel his heart shinin’ right there beside us.  So maybe…maybe we can’t see him, but I know that somewhere out there he’s cheerin’ us on.”  Kairi laughed, a sad, quiet laugh, as he took her hand and grinned, then turned to look over the others.  Riku’s expression, dark from fear, anger, and grief, now softened and as Mickey continued, he nodded quietly.  The mouse wasn’t sure how much he believed what he was saying anymore, but did it really matter?  If this was their last stand, he was darn well certain it wouldn’t be spent lightly.  A new fire, new hope, burned in his eyes as he spoke.  “No matter how far, the light will connect our hearts.  If there’s any time to believe that then gosh, I’d say it’s now.”

As he spoke, the creatures’ shimmering forms began to shift, melting away to prepare for another, more human likeness.  “Foretellers” is what they’d called themselves.  They continued to walk forward as this change took place, the masks of their animals hiding their eyes.  All but their leader, the lion, were dressed in brightly colored garb.  Only he wore the cloak that Mickey and his allies had come to know the Organization by, though he was certainly not one of them.

The Lights watched them even as they listened to Mickey speak.  It seemed his words, and seeing the Foretellers for what they were—human—was enough to give them the courage they needed.  Kairi grasped Mickey’s hand and squeezed it, sparking a chain amongst the others from Mickey to Riku to  Aqua to Ventus and then, finally, to Axel.  And for a single, brief, moment they all stood hand in hand. 

“For Sora,” Riku growled at last.

“For Sora!”

They released hands, summoned their blades, and rushed forward.  From somewhere within the darkness, a bell began to toll.

~~~

She stumbled through her doorway, clutching her side and gasping for every breath.  How could she have been so blind?  She had sought after Luxu to prevent the war, to save these innocent children from the dark fate that awaited them.  And yet in her heart she felt that their encounter had been the spark of it all.  The events she had dreaded so were finally coming to pass.

Their only hope now was to prepare for the future.

“Mickey!” she called to her charge, wincing as she tripped over herself and knocked into one of the desks in the room.  Sweat dripped beneath her mask and her face was pale with pain.  “M-Mickey!”

Her brain was swarming and it took her several moments to realize there had been no answer.

She straightened abruptly. 

“Mickey?  Mickey!”  Her calls quickly became more desperate, and she forced herself to brace against the pain and search every corner of the chambers.  But try as she might, the child was nowhere to be found.

Oh no…

Her pain vanished, replaced by a chilled panic, and she bolted out the door.

The battlefield was already littered with fallen blades when she arrived and upon finding herself in the heart of it all, she froze for just a moment.  It was worse than she’d feared.  The wielders—no, the children who had once laughed and played with one another now fought bitterly, without regard for the hearts of their friends.  Kingdom Hearts loomed above the badlands, dark and swollen. 

But the luxury of grief could not last long for her.  Standing out as an opposing Foreteller among the crowds of younger wielders, she quickly became their target and was forced to fend off countless blows. 

“Look at what you’re doing!  This isn’t right!” she shouted to them, though it made little difference.  Persistence was something the other leaders had obviously drilled into them a little too much.  And although their attacks were hardly difficult for Ava to block or avoid, she loathed seeing the anger and hatred burning in their eyes. 

The ranks began to thin, and Ava had not spotted the mouse.  A sick feeling sat in her stomach.  He had yet to summon a keyblade, and heaven knew she had hardly taught him to fight on his own.  He was younger than the others.  Younger and smaller, and far too innocent for the battlefield. And…

And then she saw him. 

Several yards away he streaked past, a bright blue blade gleaming in his grip.  Ava gasped, first relieved to find him alive, but then shocked and almost frightened to see him wielding a weapon of his own.  Surely a heart such as his, so young and untainted, could not be part of this carnage.

The battlefield was still filled to the brim with wielders, and Mickey quickly disappeared from her line of sight. She caught only glimpses as she navigated the conflict, deflecting blades as best she could without harming their owners as she ran.  It was no easy task and she found herself locked in battle with several determined souls.  But she managed to break away and, spotting a small figure darting through the crowd, raced towards it.  For a single moment, she was granted a clear view of her charge.  But her heart caught in her throat when she saw him race straight towards a fallen wielder, his keyblade raised as if ready to deal a final blow.

She opened her mouth to shout at him, moved to try to stop him.  But then he dropped to his knees, blade and hands bathed in the verdant light of healing magic, and she stopped, watching as the other wielder took a shuddering breath that steadied beneath the spell.  The little mouse offered a hand, grinning from ear to ear as his new ally took it, then he pointed off into the distance before running off to yet another weakened soul. 

He quickly faded from sight but Ava breathed a shaky sigh of relief, even as she too was swept away by the remaining skirmishes.

A light to guide them home… she thought, recalling her own words.  How he had learned to summon his blade, how he had even learned of the war, she knew not.  But here he was, younger and smaller than any other, healing every fading heart he could find.  Ava could not have been more proud.

Only several moments later and the wielders’ ranks had thinned.  Several more, and there were hardly any left.  And then suddenly, in a swift rush of air, the world was all but empty.

It was over. 

Almost.

An eerie cloud of dust lay over the battlefield, heightening the silence that already persisted across the near-empty world.  “Mickey!” she called.  She was certain he still remained, in her heart she could sense his light.  And to her relief, his silhouette soon appeared within the haze.  She ran forward and opened her mouth to call his name once more, only to stop dead in her tracks as a second figure appeared just behind him.

“Invi…” Ava whispered, eyes widening as the fellow foreteller became clear.  The point of her keyblade was held to the child’s back, and he stumbled timidly forward, confusion and fear masking his face.  “Invi, what are you doing?”

“Fulfilling my role,” the woman hissed.  There was pain in her voice, and a deep anger.  “I trusted you, Ava.  We all did.  I believed you when you told me the Master had commanded you to gather those wielders from our unions…but that was a lie, wasn’t it?  How could you lead your own union to safety and leave the others to perish here?!”

Ava’s breath hitched in her throat.  The dust had begun to clear and the gleam of thousands upon thousands of fallen keyblades shone in the darkened light of Kingdom Hearts.  “I didn’t lie,” she breathed.  “And my Dandelions are from all unions, not just Vulpes.  You know that.”

“But I didn’t know about him.” Invi prodded Mickey with her blade and he let out a frightened whimper, tail lashing behind him.  “Not at first.  But I’ve been watching.  He’s connected to the Keeper, isn’t he?  Meaning he has a power unlike any other, and you hid it for a reason.  You wanted to keep it all to yourself.”

“No!  That’s not—”

“Don’t deny it!” The fury that burst from Invi’s mouth was so venomous, so filled with rage, that Ava found herself unable to speak.  “The Master forbid us to so much as speak to the Keeper!  But you hid his child away, using him to create perfect little worlds of your own.  You say the Master told you to do this?  Well, the Master tasked me with keeping peace between all our unions.  And he-“ She glared at the little mouse.  “-represents nothing but imbalance!”

Ava could sense the energy beginning to flow between Invi and her blade, and she gasped as she summoned her own.  “Invi, you can’t!  He’s done nothing wrong, he’s just a child!”

“So were they!” Invi screeched, flinging her free hand towards the keyblades surrounding them. 

“Master Ava…” Mickey’s terrified whisper caught her attention and she glanced at him.

“Invi, please…don’t do this.”  The words came hoarsely, trembling and clumsy.  She knew she wouldn’t be faster than her counterpart.  She wouldn’t be able to save him.  “Just let me explain..”

Invi trembled, the poise and grace so often donning her persona having vanished.  She was angry and heartbroken and betrayed.  For once, emotion ruled her entirely.  Kingdom Hearts’ now-dark form glinted on the silver of her mask.

“You say the Dandelions were your role to play?  Well this…this is mine.”

[electric-sympathy]

Vampire!Dean fic excerpt

Right, so, I know I said I was going to post a bit of Cathemeral, but I was going through my files and yet another unfinished Vampire!Dean fic caught my eye. I wrote it a number of years ago after a “painful transformation” commentfic prompt at Hoodietime. 

So, here is a quick excerpt from my Hellsing-inspired fic!!! Just finished fleshing it out. It’s about 1.5k words. Takes place after Dean has busted himself and Sam out of a stronghold of Crowley’s with a little help from an impromptu vampiric transformation, but as you can see, something went Very Wrong. I guess you could call this Chapter 3?

Enjoy!!!! Concrit welcome!!!

Sam is concentrating intently on a scan of a 14th century manuscript when he hears a noise right at his ear, like wings, drawn out and distorted as if through water, quiet and delicate.

There are four pure black moths on his forearm, gathered three in a circle at one point and one scuttling towards them, looking to squeeze in.

He flaps his hand at them. They collapse into shadow and swirl round his fingers like fog before dissipating, drawn unseen into the surrounding darkness.

There are three pinpricks in his skin.

--- * \ \ * \ \ * ---

Sam’s immediate thought is of Dean, unconscious in the bedroom. He rushes away from the computer, but pauses when he reaches the bedroom door, open just a crack. For just a moment, the suppositions that Dean needs protecting and that Dean himself could be the danger fight each other before Sam's guilt and protectiveness wins out. 

Cautious, he presses the pads of his fingers to the aged wood and eases the door open as silently as he can, edging inside, demon killing knife at his hip...

And then he stands in the doorway, staring, half in half out, one hand clutching the door frame. Trying to make sense of what he sees.

The shadows on Dean's body have broken their bounds.

They've spread out strangely, bigger than they should be, and are reaching out into three dimensional space. And like shadows, all he can see at a given point is the outline of the entire semitranslucent mass. 

At first, it looks like hydrangeas flowing in the breeze.

Sam edges cautiously further into the room. He can't match whatever this is to anything he knows about vampires, real or fictional, and can't help but use the caution pounded into him through years of hunting, Dean or not.

Closer now, he can make them out: Hundreds of moths made of pure shadow are clustered on Dean's body. Small wings flutter sluggishly as they wander drunkenly in each space portioned out to them, oblivious to Sam's entry. He waves his arms in the air, trying to get their attention, but none take notice. The revelation doesn't make any more sense to Sam than before. It doesn't seem like they're doing anything to Dean. They almost seem to be a part of him, with the way they seem to be reaching out from the shadows on his body. Part of whatever transformation he's going through. Sam can't think of anything like this, nothing he's read or encountered. Even Daeva are dramatically different shadow creatures-- more invisible than really made of shadow. The effect could almost be pretty, if it were not so obviously unnatural, or infesting his brother.

...Should he wake him? Would that make it stop? Should he make it stop? The answer seems obvious.

Sam creeps to the head of the bed. Slowly, he reaches towards the intersection between Dean's neck and shoulder. At the edges of that mass, he can see their beady little eyes as holes punched through the shadows.

It parts at the intrusion of his hand for a moment, the little things bumping lightly into each other as they move away, seemingly not sure what to make of him. But when the wave crests, they clamor for him as one. They reach out in a strange symmetry, four tendrils made up of a column of bugs to wrap around his forearm. Tens of dainty, long proboscides reach for his skin, and this time, he feels the pain. He panics, yanks his arm away, and there's a delicate pull like little threads snapping as he does. The moths are pulled free, and collapse from the force back into shadowy tendrils that recede into Dean's neck. That shadow looks normal again.

There are four rows of perfectly spaced lines of pinpricks wrapping up and around his forearm. Just barely big enough for blood to bead before clotting.

He waits, knife at the ready.

Nothing happens.

They've forgotten about him already. He waits as long as he can stand it, knife hand eventually falling dejected at his side. He concludes that their intelligence is rudimentary, if they are even sentient.

Well, he decides, at least I have something to go on now. He trots back to the side room to retrieve his laptop, focus newly replenished.

By the time he's back, setting himself up at the little desk at the window to watch out of the corner of his eye, little wings are budding like petals from the shadow at Dean's neck again.

Sam tries to cover up the knowledge that he is sitting vigil with the idea that at least he can tease Dean about being the Butterfly Boy when he wakes up.

--- * \ \ * \ \ * ---

"...The genus Calyptra is a group of moths in subfamily Calpinae of the family Erebidae. They are a member of the Calpini tribe, whose precise circumscription is uncertain but which includes a number of other fruit-piercing or eye-frequenting genera currently classified in Calpinae.

The common name of many of these species, vampire moth, refers to the habit that they have of drinking blood from vertebrates. Some of them (C. thalictri) are even capable of drinking human blood through skin..."

"...The Carpathian Mountains arch through the Czech Republic and then turn east, continuing on through Poland, Romania, Slovakia, and Ukraine before finally ending near the Danube River in Serbia. It is here in this mountain range that there lives a species of vampire known as a mahr. Living off the consumption of human souls, the mahr swoops down upon its victim in the form of a moth, taking a bite or two before flying off. The more often a mahr attacks a single victim, the easier it becomes for the vampire to do so in the future. Eventually the prey is killed and the soul consumed. Fortunately, there are two ways in which a mahr can be slain. The first is to...."

Sam stretches and runs his hands through his hair, turning away from the desk, and freezes.

Dean's awake.

Mostly.

The shadow moths are gone. Oversized, red irises with blown out pupils wander the room. He doesn't seem entirely aware of what he's looking at, or even what he's looking for. 

He's baring his fangs, and God, they're gigantic. 

As he works unconsciously to keep himself from drooling, his tongue laps out of his mouth like an angry dog's.

The expression on his face, however, is one only of sleepiness, confusion. Sam can tell that there's a slight undercurrent of distress trying to work its way through the fog.

Sam wonders if this is what it feels like to keep tigers.

"Dean?"

No answer. A little more confusion. A little less drooling.

Sam approaches the bed. He cards his hand through Dean's hair and lets it rest there. The warm weight seems to snap Dean out of it slightly; his pupils visibly retract, and he slowly stops his search through the room to stare sleepily at nothing, face slackening. His eyes seem to lose most of that preternatural scarlet glow; the structure of his irises is now visible through it again, which are now an odd brownish-maroon color. 

"Go back to sleep, Dean," he murmurs, soft and low, and tries unsuccessfully to hide the sadness  in his tone.

Dean's eyelids grow heavy and the alert tension drains out of him. His head burrows into the pillow and a soft, utterly self-unconscious exhale of breath escapes his lips. He falls back asleep almost immediately.

Sam has wished since before Dean's deal that he would accept the comfort he obviously needed, but not like this.

Falling asleep so easily... It made him look like a big kid. Sam welcomes the choking love for his brother, so absent this past year.

He stays by the bedside for a long time.

--- * \ \ * \ \ * ---

Castiel shows up at dusk a few hours later, a sizeable jar of demon blood held to his side, furtively, like contraband. As usual, there is no expression on his face, but his body language seems uncomfortable. It's something he must have scavenged from Bobby's pantry which, strangely, makes it look for all the world like a harmless half gallon of blackberry preserve.

The fact that it isn't for Sam doesn't make him feel any better.

Castiel ignores its presence entirely and gets straight to the point. The moths returned shortly after Dean fell back asleep, but if Castiel is surprised by them he doesn't verbalize it.

"How is he?"

"He woke up for a few minutes a couple hours ago, but he didn't seem..." Sam's face screws up. He tries again. "It was like he could tell there was a... A source of blood in the room, but he wouldn't focus on anything. Didn't respond when I tried to talk to him."

Castiel is staring at Dean all the while, head tilted in that way of his when thinking hard. Usually, it seems as though he's scrutinizing the space between atoms, but there's a line of frustration in his brow that makes it seem like he can't see anything. Sam wonders if he paid any attention to what he'd just said.

In that moment, Dean's head lifts from the pillow, drawing both their gazes.

Sam would've thought that having his pupils less dilated would make Dean's gaze feel less... animal, but it didn't. The glow had returned, making his owlish irises shine with a smooth, ruby iridescence.

The moths surge up from behind his neck, piling over each other, restless. Sam can actually hear the agitated titter of their wings this time.

He doesn't think he can watch this.

[swampofiniquity]

What You Want (Leon Kennedy x Reader Drabble)

Just a drabble, not connected to anything I've written before (unless you want it to be I guess)

Rated: Mature

Word Count: 697

Cross-posted on A03

Warnings/Contents: friends with benefits, reader is seeking comfort after a breakup, reader is wearing a bra and is called 'Sweetheart' but not explicitly referred to as a specific gender, Leon picks you up, making out and groping, implied sexual content

*Please note that by clicking “Keep reading” you are confirming that you are 18 years of age or older. If you are under 18, please respect my boundaries by not reading or interacting with my mature or explicit content*

Masterlist

“Tell me what you want,” Leon whispered, breath tickling the nape of your neck as he trailed hot, open mouthed kisses across your skin. A warm shiver trailed down your spine and settled not unpleasantly in your lower abdomen as your body melted back against his chest, no longer confident you could stay upright without his support.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words died in your throat, only a soft little gasp escaping as Leon’s hands abruptly made their way up from your hips to your chest, snaking under your shirt and rucking up your bra. The rough skin of his palms felt cool on your flushed skin as he dug his fingers in, his blunt nails biting in, just on the right side of painful. 

There was a reason you kept crawling back to him, begging for his renewed attention time and time again like after a stressful week at work or in this case, another failed relationship. Leon wasn’t one for commitment, but he was always happy to put you back together when your own search for love would inevitably fail, if only so he could oh so carefully take you back apart in the best way possible. 

“C’mon use your words, Sweetheart,” his lips were against your ear now and you could feel his excitement pressing against your lower back despite his teasing. 

“You know what I want,” you countered, turning in his arms so you were facing him. His hair was a little mussed from your hands from earlier and you couldn’t resist running your fingers through it again, tugging at the ends just hard enough to make him to hiss behind his teeth. 

“I do, do I?” he bent and buried his face into the crook of your neck, busying himself once again with painting kisses there. 

“Yes,” you breathed, in response to both his actions and his words as he found a tender spot under your jaw. 

“You sure about that now?” spoken against your skin, a little muffled by his tongue now leaving hot tracks across your neck, down to your collarbone. Rough hands went to your hips and dragged you in closer, his arousal meeting your belly through your clothes still hot enough to make you bite back a moan. 

“Yes.”

“Alright then.” The next thing you knew, Leon was stooping and gathering you up in a fireman carry over his shoulder, the sudden shift in gravity making you shriek and your hands scramble for purchase, finally clutching his navy blue button up shirt as your world flipped upside down. 

“Leon!” you shouted breathlessly through your laughter, still giggling madly even as a hand came down to give you a solid smack on the ass through your jeans once he had a stable grip on your squirming body. 

“What, this is what you wanted right?” he asked grinning, spinning around now just to hear you shriek again and your laughter continue. 

“Put me down,” you managed to squeak out, the demand all the more toothless from being gasped out between laughs. 

“Nah, I don’t think I will, sorry.” The spins came to an abrupt halt as Leon changed direction and started stalking down the hallway, his heavy bootfalls on the hardwood only adding to the pounding in your heart. “You’re mine for the night, right?”

You didn’t get a chance to answer before you were dumped gracelessly to his bed with a huff. The brief moment of levity was sucked clean out of the room, like oxygen in a raging fire, when Leon joined you on the comforter, wedging a knee between your legs and leaning down to press you into the mattress. 

“It’s not like anyone else has a claim anymore,” you said, pushing up to meet his lips, but he pulled back, his blue eyes narrowing down at you. 

“None of that tonight. That idiot’s loss is my gain and I’m going to fuck you so hard that you forget his name.” 

“Big words. That a promise?”

The knee between your legs grounded up against you, making the seam of your jeans dig in right where you were aching for him. You moaned low in your throat, your back arching up into him. “It’s a guarantee, Sweetheart.” 

[bvckys-doll]

Let me take care of you

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Bucky broke up with (Y/N) a month ago and she still doesn’t know why. When she decides to visit the HQ for the first time after their break up to get the rest of her stuff, the whole team is out on a mission. (Y/N) is not prepared to meet her ex soon after her arrival. Heavily injured.

Warnings: bloody wound. (Y/N) needs to stitch him up. Blood, duh. Angsty fic with a happy ending!

Author’s note: This one-shot sat in my Bucky folder for too long so now I finally got the chance to post it. Italics is the past. I hope you like it and might leave a comment in the reply section! PLEASE! Take care of yourself, stay safe and healthy! Cosplay the Winter Soldier and PUT ON A FCKING MASK!

You can find my main masterlist here!

It was a strange feeling to walk through the hallways of the headquarters without being able to call it her home. Bucky and (Y/N) had broken off their relationship a month ago and it was still hard to process everything. Normally she wouldn’t be so tense and would walk down the hallway without a bad feeling, but the bad feeling was omnipresent.

After more than a year of their relationship, it was Bucky’s decision to end it. It had happened out of the blue, but he thought it was for the best, as the missions were getting harder and harder each time and Barnes knew that (Y/N) was worried sick.

He had often come home in the evening and found her still awake on the couch. She could not sleep if she knew that the rest of the team was on a risky mission that she could not or was not allowed to participate in.

Bucky loved (Y/N). He still knew that. Yet he had never said it out loud. Bucky knew after the first three months of their relationship that he loved her, but he was too much of a coward to tell (Y/N) the truth. What if she turned him down? What if she thought they were moving to fast? So, Bucky kept it that way and tried to show her his affection in different ways.

But in the end, the former Winter Soldier knew he could no longer keep it from her. So, James chose the simplest method: to let her go. Of course, he knew from the start that (Y/N) wouldn’t just leave. After a year of dating, she wouldn’t just leave if Bucky told her to. She would ask questions, probably cry, and beg him to try again. There was only one option: he would have to break her heart.

~

With a broad smile on her lips, (Y/N) opened the door to her room, while trying not to drop the plate of the fresh cookies she had baked and brought with her.

“Baby, you’re not gonna believe what Sam just said. ” (Y/N) chuckled and put the plate on the coffee table next to the couch when Bucky came out of the bathroom. Before she could speak up again, she paused, and her eyes widened. His eyes were swollen and red. He must have cried. A lot.

“James, what’s going on?” (Y/N) approached him and put her hands on his cheeks. Meanwhile Bucky was clenching his hands in fists to prevent himself from pulling (Y/N) close. The next words that passed his lips would not only break her heart, but also him.

“I want you to go.”

“W-what? I don’t understand. Shall I go down to the living room and leave you alone?” (Y/N) tried to make sense of his words. Another tear ran down Bucky’s cheek. Immediately she wiped it away and watched him anxiously. Slowly, he grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands from his face, whereupon (Y/N) looked at him completely disillusioned.

“I can’t be with you anymore. We are too different” James replied and stepped past her as (Y/N) froze at her place. She couldn’t quite believe what he had just said. Before she could say another word, he continued and pulled the final straw “I don’t love you…and I never loved you. This...was all just a pastime for me to feel a little better after everything that’s happened to me.”

Her back was still turned to him as Bucky saw how (Y/N) now clenched her hands into fists as well and a sob escaped her lips. How he would have loved to take her in his arms. Tell her it was all a lie to protect her. But he didn't. He stood firm and left it at that.

Without another word, (Y/N) turned on her heel and left their shared bedroom, pulling the door shut behind her with a loud bang.

~

Since the confrontation, they hadn't seen each other or exchanged another word. Natasha had packed a few things and left with (Y/N) only a few hours later after the incident. Natasha hadn't spoken a word to him since that day either.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) had been staying in a hotel for the past four weeks because she couldn’t find a new apartment so quickly. In New York it is never easy to find a good apartment and most of them are incredibly expensive. Despite (Y/N)’s constant reluctance, Tony insisted on paying for her accommodation at the hotel because she was one of his best employees.

Most of the time she worked from her hotel room, which Tony fortunately allowed her to do. Still, (Y/N) knew it couldn’t go on like this forever. Sooner or later, she’d see Bucky and the pain would come back.

According to the team’s entries in the system, everyone was on a mission near Rio de Janeiro. No one had told her why and for how long, but she knew they were not back yet. At least, that is what (Y/N) thought.

Since she still had some clothes and other stuff in their old, shared room, (Y/N) wanted to get them before the rest of the team started running around the headquarters again. So, with a moving box under her arm, she made her way to the room where she entered the usual code.

Beep!

Pushing the door open with her hip, (Y/N) groped for the light switch with her free hand. Briefly, (Y/N) squinted her eyes as the bright light illuminated the room. Why did Bucky always leave the curtains closed when he was away?

With a glance around the room, her question was answered.

The room has been left in a great mess. His shirts, shoes and sweatpants were scattered on the floor and his bed looked as if he had just got up. The cushions were either at the foot of the bed or in another corner of the room.

One of the signs for his nightmares. Things that (Y/N) wouldn’t have to deal with anymore.

Murmuring, she made room on his desk and set the box down. The first mission: the wardrobe. One of the doors was already open and one of Bucky’s knives laid on the floor. She opened the other door as well and pulled her clothes and blouses off the hangers before carefully packing them into the box.

Now it came to the sweaters.

To be honest, she sometimes didn’t even remember which ones belonged to her and which ones to Bucky, since she had usually put his shirts on instead of her own.

While (Y/N) was busy with her other t-shirts, Bucky’s red Henley shirt fell into her arms. Sighing, she held the thin, dark red material in her hands and looked at the thin seam. She probably had to mend the shirt five times already.

Suddenly the door of the room opened, and (Y/N) turned around in shock when she saw Bucky standing in the door frame. For a short moment none of them moved and they just stared at each other. (Y/N) was still holding his shirt in her hand before she quickly threw it behind her on the bed.

“What are you doing here?” they asked at the same time before Bucky raised an eyebrow and added a bit abruptly, “I live here. What’s your excuse?”

“I’m just going to get the rest of my stuff. I’ll be gone before you can count to three”, she snorted at his tone “Actually, I was hoping that- …you’re bleeding.”

(Y/N)’s gaze went to his hand, which seemed to squeeze a wound. Not successful, however, because the blood swelled through his fingers. Bucky briefly looked down at himself, pressing his hand further into his side, and gritting his teeth briefly “No shit, Sherlock.”

“Do you think now is the right time to make jokes, Barnes?” (Y/N) growled in a serious tone as Bucky pushed past her towards the bathroom. He got out of his jacket and closed his eyes while gritting his teeth. In the bright light of the ceiling lamp, (Y/N) could see the blood in his hair and the slight scratches on his face. Apparently, it had been a pretty rough mission.

“Why didn’t you go straight to Helen with an injury like that?” (Y/N) watched him throw his leather jacket into the bathtub and then leaned on the edge of the sink. Before James was about to lose consciousness, (Y/N) quickly came up to him and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, while his other hand was still pressing on the wound. He had already lost a lot of blood.

With the last strength James had left in his legs, he made it to his bed with (Y/N)’s help, where he laid down and squeezed his eyes in pain. (Y/N) quickly ran into the bathroom and dug the first aid kit out of the drawer before sitting on the edge of the bed next to Bucky, who was breathing slowly.

“You don’t need to help me” his voice was raspy as his eyelids slowly dropped.

“Hey, you’re staying with me” (Y/N) patted his cheek “Where are the others?”

(Y/N) took the scissors out of the box and used them to cut his shirt open so she could get a better view of his wound. His voice was still raspy as he replied, "There were too many. They surprised us and we weren't prepared for it. Some bastard caught me pushing Steve out of the way. What's he got that stupid shield for if it doesn't even help?"

"Is the bullet still in there?", (Y/N) asked him as she pressed a couple of compresses into his hand so he could use them to stop the bleeding, which was slowly but surely receding. Relieved, (Y/N) slumped her shoulders as he shook his head before replying, "Helen wasn't there and I didn't feel like looking for anyone else. I don't necessarily trust the others. Clint flew me in quickly and then flew right back. I told him the wound was already closing up."

“This lie could have killed you, you know that, right? If I hadn’t been here, you would have collapsed in the bathroom and probably died of blood loss.” (Y/N) answered as she tried to get the thread through the head of the needle, which was not as easy as she thought. Probably it was also because her hands were shaking, which Bucky noticed when he watched (Y/N) “I would have made it somehow.”

But the way (Y/N) looked down at him was enough for him to shut up. Knowing it was a straight lie. And he had to admit that he wouldn’t have cared if it had happened like that. (Y/N) was gone. He had lost her, and that was all his fault.

Attentively James watched her as she prepared everything and checked again and again if the wound was still bleeding heavily. After it had slowly but surely subsided, (Y/N) removed the compress from his stomach and glanced at the gaping wound. Sighing, she took the disinfectant and dripped some onto a cloth before looking at James, who understood immediately before he said “I'm used to the pain, you know that. Don't worry about it. "

“You don't need to play hero here, James. I know how much that it hurts.” (Y/N) muttered, holding the cloth tightly before pressing it to the wound. Briefly, Bucky's chest heaved, and he growled in pain, breaking (Y/N)'s heart in the process, before she finally managed to take the cloth down and throw it away.

Quickly she took some of the numbing gel and smeared it around the wound before looking to Bucky, “I'm stitching it up now as best as I can. I'll have Helen look at it as soon as she gets back.”

Without another word from Bucky, (Y/N) began stitching up his wound. She was still shaking a little, but slowly it was getting better. Finally, she bandaged the wound with a compress and took care of the small scratches on his cheek.

They hadn't been this close in a long time. (Y/N) didn't even notice how she held her breath as she ran the disinfectant over the wounds. Bucky gritted his teeth again for a moment, but his gaze didn't avert from her.

Calmly, she stuck a band-aid over the wound and gave it another quick brush with her thumb as it blurted out of Bucky, "I lied."

Bucky watched her reaction carefully as she removed her hand from his cheek and held his gaze. His gaze wandered to the ceiling, kneading his hands nervously. He added, "When I said you were just a pastime and I didn't love you, I lied. That's not true. "

"Then why do you say such a thing?", (Y/N) asked him in a calm voice that didn't show if she was amazed, sad, or angry. Bucky himself was afraid of any of these reactions.

Desperately, he tried to find the right words "I was worried about you. This life with me could break you. You haven’t slept for weeks because of me. Because you're always so worried about me and while doing so, you forget to take care of you. When I…come back from missions, you're still awake because you want to know that I got home safely. You…you're too good for me and I don't want to destroy you like I've already destroyed everything else around me. I got you-. "

"You've already destroyed me, James. ", (Y/N) interrupted, looking at him with glazed eyes. This was exactly what he tried to avoid. He never wanted to be the reason why she felt bad, but now his worst fear had come true.

"You successfully broke my heart when you told me I was nothing more than a silly pastime you're done with now. I thought that you…I thought that we will go on like this forever. Do you know how happy you've made me? You were the one I could imagine anything with. I never wanted kids. I never wanted to get married, only to get divorced three years later. I never wanted this. But then you came along and showed me that there is a man who could make this all a possibility. A family. A life together. . . "

Tears were streaming down his cheeks when he saw her sitting in front of him throwing all this at his head. He had been such a coward. If he had just talked to her and told her everything, it would never have come to this.

But he was scared. Scared of being rejected again like all the other women did it before. But his (Y/N) wasn’t like them, but he couldn’t bear the thought that she might be.

“I love you, doll. I really do.” Bucky sobbed and wiped the tears from her eyes as (Y/N) looked at him and her eyes were just as swollen as his own before he continued, “I love you more than anything and I-I was stupid because I once again thought only of myself and…and not of the consequences. I love you and I don’t want to lose you. You’re all I have left. ”

Sniffing, (Y/N) looked at the man she loved more than anything. How he lay there on the bed, showing his most vulnerable side. He always appeared so strong in front of everyone so they would not see the real Bucky. But this man was so exhausted by everything that had happened to him. He didn’t want to have those thoughts. These doubts. That fear. He just wanted to live a happy and fulfilled life with (Y/N).

Slowly, she moved closer to him on the mattress and brushed the hair out of his face, which was still a bit sticky because of the blood. Gently, she leaned down to him and embraces him as best she could without touching his wound.

At first, he remained calm, then he wrapped his arms around her center and pulled her into his arms until finally she lay next to him in the bed. The two were sobbing in each other’s arms with (Y/N) running her fingers through his hair. Again, and again.

“I love you, James Barnes. So so much.” (Y/N) muttered as she buried her face in his neck while she was still fondled the back of his head. “But I swear to God, if you do this again, I’ll send Natasha after you and you know what she is capable of.”

“Of course, I know that. I taught her well.” Bucky mumbled while he held her close “I’ll never let you go again. I promise.”

[mourntheantagonist]

Smut prompt!!! ( from your recent post!)

Billy has a thing for being held down. He’s been pushing steve around the school all day, trying to get a rise out of him and it WORKS- It starts out hostilely but turns into something much steamier ending in the blonde being fucked.

ABSOLUTELY!! ABSO-FUCKIN-LUTELY!!

cw: rough sex

***

“From here on out you leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?”

He said yes. He said he understood. But did he really?

What Billy understood of Max’s demands, was really just what she meant. She meant for him to keep his fists to himself, not to hurt any one of them, including Steve, and that, he understood that. But what Billy needed was for Steve to hit him. He needed for him to fucking fight back, throw another punch his way to level out the playing field. He needed for Steve to break his nose, split his lip, just do fucking something other than hang his head low and continue to avoid him like the goddamn plague.

So Billy didn’t leave him alone like Max had demanded. He teased, he pushed his buttons, he fouled him during basketball practice and shut off his shower head, he hid his gym clothes and stole his towel off the rack. Anything to just get a rise out of him.

But Steve just takes it. He never does anything more than roll his eyes and say “Hargrove” like it’s a slur. But Billy can also see how he’s beginning to wear Steve down, little by little, getting closer and closer to fucking exploding.

Until he does. After an entire scrimmage game where Billy fouled Steve enough times that he was ejected, followed up by an already pissed off Steve having his towel ripped from the rack for probably the fifteenth time that month. Steve had had enough, and promptly pushed Billy up against the shower walls with more force than he would have anticipated. Steve took him by the wrists and shoved a knee into the back of his thigh until Billy was fully pinned to the wall and completely immobilized.

“Cut that shit out Hargrove.” Steve said, in a low and husky voice directly into his ear, the heat of his breath making the inside of Billy’s head buzz. The bones in Steve palms dug deep into Billy’s wrists, and when he let go, Billy nearly fell to the floor. His legs felt like jelly and he refused to turn around from where he was facing the wall as everyone crowded around and laughed, congratulating a Steve who pushed past everyone after retrieving his stolen towel. Meanwhile, Billy’s still not turning around until all of the other guys have scattered away.

Because he’s fucking hard.

He could still feel Steve’s hands on his wrists on the drive back home, red all around the circumference. He could still smell him, all up in his space pressing his entire weight into the wall leaving him completely motionless. He needed more. He needed that again.

So he kept pushing. He kept pushing despite Steve’s warnings, because to Billy, it was a fucking promise.

Except this time around it was different, because he tried to do it when no one else was around. He fucked with the shower head just enough so that it was just the two of them left to occupy the boys locker room after hours. Naked, dripping wet, horny…

And Steve, absolutely fired up.

“Don’t think I won’t do it again asshole.” Steve said as he dried himself off with a towel, still undressed, and Billy didn't know where he got the nerve to steal a look so obviously at the brunette as he toweled off his hips, biting his lower lip. That was just the first step in a series of bold, and honestly, stupid moves out of Billy, because next thing he knew he had one hand latched on to Steve’s towel.

“Don’t think I don’t want you to.”

You could hear a pin drop to the floor with just how silent the room got. Steve just stared at Billy who still had his hand firmly gripping the corner of the towel, waiting for Steve to give, to let up on his own grip just enough for Billy to yank it from his possession and drop it to the floor.

Steve was still, unmoving, and the awkward silence was deafening, so after already sealing his fate, he said what he wanted, made it clear.

“Pin me. Take whatever you want from me.” Billy said, tugging on the towel a little harder, but Steve’s grip that hadn’t given.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Steve’s eyes were narrowing in on him, like maybe, just maybe, Billy struck a bit of a nerve.

Billy tugged on the towel again. “Pin me up against those lockers.”

Steve tugged back.

“Yeah? Then what?” Steve asked.

Billy tugged again. “Punch me...” Steve tugged back, but Billy tugged again, harder. “Fuck me…”

Steve let go, and the towel fell to the floor in slow motion, all dramatic like it was straight out of a movie scene. Billy moved to close the distance between them a little more, chests nearly touching and each other’s breaths able to be felt on their faces. “Whatever you want.”

Not a second passed before Billy found his cheek smashed up against the door of his locker and Steve’s entire naked body up against his back. They were pressed so close together that he could feel Steve’s heart as it beat through his chest, along with his shaky breathing, right in his ear. Steve’s hands were back at his wrists in the same exact spot they were the last time, pressing them firmly into the locker, almost hard enough it might leave a small dent in the metal.

Steve was clearly hesitant, his hands still firmly placed where they were, and his breathing only growing more uneven. Billy might have thought Steve might choose the “punch me” option if it weren’t for the fact that his dick was right up against his ass, clearly just as excited as he was. Steve was still nervous, and all that meant was that he just needed a little bit more encouraging taunting.

“Go ahead pretty boy, fuck me like you hate me.”

That was enough for Steve’s hands to finally move, to trail down the length of his arms and down his back with the same bruising force the whole way down, like a deep tissue massage that he’d surely still feel later on.

Steve’s hands trailed all the way down to his ass where he squeezed hard, let out a heavy breath, and paused right there, cupping his cheeks and spreading them apart.

“Fuck,” Steve swears, “what the fuck are we doing?!” Steve slams his fist against the lockers hard, the sound of metal echoing off the tile walls and the vibrations buzzing in Billy’s head.

Billy laughed. “My duffel. Condom, lube, it’s all in there…”

Steve gives Billy a good push into the lockers before walking over to the duffel on the floor and pulling the two aforementioned items out of the bag’s side pocket. He held up the golden foil and small bottle of aloe vera and just stared at them.

“Did you come prepared for this?” Steve asked, it was an accusation.

“This was the plan all along pretty boy, let’s just say I was hopeful.” Billy said as he shifted his feet on the floor so his legs were spread further. “Now quit fucking stalling!”

Steve made his way back over and without warning, introduced an aloe coated finger to his hole that slipped right in, but Billy still gasped.

“Hurry up Harrington! I’m already stretched and ready, fuck me with your dick!” Billy snarled, and threw his hips backwards into Steve.

Steve skipped over a second finger and went straight up to three, while with the help of his free hand and his teeth, he opened up the condom and slipped it over his cock.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked, but it was quickly followed by another slam on the locker doors, this time from Billy.

“Quit treating me like I’m your fucking girlfriend!” Billy shouted, “Hold me down and take what you fucking want!”

Almost instantly, Billy was pushed right back into the wall of lockers and Steve’s fingers had abruptly left their place from inside of him, leaving him with an empty feeling that was quickly relieved by the feeling of something much larger right at his entrance.

Steve’s hands were on him, but they were hardly applying any force, Billy could easily slip through it and that was the exact opposite of what he wanted from him.

“Hold me down while you fuck me!”

Steve responded to that by finally thrusting inside of him and pushing his hands even deeper into his shoulder blades. Billy let out a short moan upon impact, but still wriggled his body unsatisfied.

“Harder!”

Steve didn’t know which part he was talking about, so he responded to both, thrusting in even harder and deeper and pushing his hands down even more.

“More!” Billy demanded, with a maniacal laugh that enraged Steve, and he grew more and more pissed off as Billy continued to squirm around trying to get out of his grip.

“Stop fucking moving!”

“Make me!” Billy yelled. “Fucking make me!”

Steve doesn’t know whether it was the anger, or Billy’s own demands that caused him to bring his hand up to the side of Billy’s head and shove him right into the wall of lockers so that his cheek was firmly smashed against them. Billy’s brain rattled inside of his skull as the force of his head made contact with the metal. He could taste blood on the inside of his mouth where his teeth must have cut, and he didn’t mind, because that’s exactly what he wanted.

“Perfect.” He said, settling any nerves Steve might have had thinking he fucked up with that move. “Now fuck me already.”

Steve didn’t remove his hand from where it was pushing into the side of Billy’s head, all tangled up in with his still wet hair, and his other hand was gripping his bicep, leaving finger shaped bruises as he pushed him hard against the lockers.

Billy was completely immobile as Steve thrusted into him, and his moans and groans were entirely uncensored and bounced off the walls in a chorus coupled with Steve’s own, that were more slicked and held back than his. Steve’s entire body weight was leaning into him and his face found a place to rest just above his shoulder, behind his head where he couldn’t see him, but only feel the heat of his breath against the back of his neck. With just that alone, Billy could feel his own dick twitch and begin to leak with pre and drip to the tile floor that was already infested with athletes foot.

Steve’s breath grew heavier, loud and hot against Billy’s skin, and what Steve did to stop his own panting was to secure his lips around the sensitive skin of Billy’s neck, and Billy gasped, and nearly stopped breathing all together and Steve gently bit down.

“Fuck!” Billy swore, his voice at a loud whisper.

He couldn’t see it, but he knew Steve had a smug fucking grin on his face.

“You like that Hargrove?”

“Shut the fuck up Harrington!”

Steve just laughed and picked up his pace, back to his heavy breathing against his neck, the heat on his wet skin making Billy shiver. He could already tell he wouldn’t last much longer.

But Steve was the first to speak up.

“Ah, I’m gonna fucking cum!” Steve said it like it was a moment of defeat, which made Billy wonder how long it usually took for Steve to reach climax with all those other girls he bragged about taking to bed. But Billy wasn’t one to talk, because he was right there with him.

“Fuck, me too.”

Steve removed the hand that was at Billy’s shoulder, and Billy was about to start complain, but then the same hand found itself wrapped right around Billy’s cock, thumb grazing over the tip with a gentle touch that drastically differed from the still strong force that was Steve’s other hand still pressing into his skull. Billy let out an embarrassingly loud moan as he nearly instantly finished directly into Steve’s hand, but the moan was almost drowned out by Steve’s voice which matched his volume as he filled up the condom from inside Billy after a final slam directly into his prostate, and Steve finally at that moment let up of the force against Billy’s head.

And Billy nearly fell directly to the floor. He couldn’t feel his own fucking legs anymore.

Steve fell backwards into one of the benches behind them, sitting his bare naked ass right on the seat as his whole body slumped forward. He pulled the condom off of his dick with a hand coated in a mixture of lube and Billy’s come.

Billy still hadn’t turned around, all of that confidence he had at the start just washing away in an instant, afraid to face Steve. Nothing started to hurt until it was actually over, and that pain was largely not even physical.

And Steve noticed that. He noticed how Billy’s entire mood changed. Just silent with his face and hands still plastered up against those locker doors like he was holding on for dear life.

Steve wiped his hand off on that towel that dropped to the floor at the whole start of it, and got back up from where he was seated on the locker room bench. He walked up to Billy and placed a firm, but not forceful hand up to Billy’s shoulder where he could already see the redness forming itself into a bruise.

“Hey.” Steve said, his voice soft.

Billy let out a long and heavy breath, like he had been holding it up until the moment Steve spoke. Steve gently turned Billy around to face him, removing him from the lockers he was practically glued to, and did something that was uninvited.

He gently traced his fingers down the length of Billy’s jaw, and when no effort was made to step back or lean away, he kissed him. Gentle on the lips where he could taste the blood on the inside of Billy’s mouth, something he didn’t really want to think too long and hard about. Billy closed his eyes and leaned into it. It was soft and sweet and completely unlike the rough and bruising fuck they just had, and that was the missing piece.

The feeling of Steve’s hands gripping his body and the sight of the bruises he left afterwards stopped feeling like a pain, but a reminder, a good fucking reminder that didn’t last nearly long enough.

But one thing he remembered was that old demand from his little sister back in November. To leave Steve alone. But if ignoring that demand was going to deliver this kind of promise, Billy doesn’t think he’ll be listening to that one any time soon.

[ellavogues]

sunday mornings - harry styles

summary: your relationship with harry has always been ‘whatever it is’, although you both secretly long for more.

a/n so this was originally posted on my old blog which i deactivated, but im too proud of this to let it be gone forever <3

Sunday mornings always seem to start the same. You’re cozied up in his bed, head on his chest and his arm splayed across you, the light shining through the gaps of his curtains.

Memories from the night before tend to replay in your head as you wait for him to wake up - from the pre game at his house, to his hand on the small of your back leading you out to his car and only leaving to open the door for you, to the club or shitty frat party that he had somehow weaseled his way into where he’d hold your hand while he filmed and makeout with you in the corner once he had finished.

Then the journey home. Harry being the only sober one of his friends almost always ended up being the designated driver, dropping all of them off at their respective households. Not that he minded, it was the perfect opportunity for him to talk to you.

It was always incredibly easy talking to him. He was good at small talk, and he was good at turning small talk into meaningful and often fun conversations.

Conversing was one of his many talents you told him as he was dropping his friend off at his house one night. Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the unique compliment you gave him, his hand landing gently in your thigh, giving it a small squeeze as his head tilted slightly back as he laughed.

“Baby, what does that even mean?” He chuckled, shaking his head as he tilted it to look at you. You could get lost in his eyes.

Even after six months of whatever your relationship with Harry was, your heart still skipped a beat every time he called you baby. You tried fruitlessly to stop ot hide the blush rising to your cheeks as a result of the nicknames he called you, but he never missed it.

It was one of his favorite things to see; something as simple as a pet name got you all nervous in the best way.

Despite Harry being better at hiding it, you had the same effect on him. Whether it’s you calling him Haz (you’re the only person he’ll allow it from) or you playing with his hair while you watch your show together, he gets butterflies in his stomach every time.

One day, when you came over for a movie night and ice cream, you came with a bunch of shopping bags. Harry’s first reaction was to wind you up, tease you for your frivolous shopping habits. But when you set your bags down and reached into one of them, feeling around for something and pulling out a T-Shirt and hoodie - a men’s T-Shirt and hoodie - Harry’s expression turned from playful and confused.

“What’s that for?” He asked casually, eyebrows furrowed.

“I was shopping for myself and I saw these and I, I thought they would look good on you,” you tell him, honestly nervous as to how he’d react. You had no idea how serious the two of you were, and whether this gesture, as simple as it may be, would scare him off.

But Harry’s confused face turned into a smile, relieving any anxieties you had. He couldn’t believe you thought of him when you saw these clothes and then cared enough about him to buy it.

That’s when he realized he loved you. And it scared the shit out of him.

He wore the hoodie to pick you up the next Saturday, repeating your weekly routine of hanging out then going out. He took everyone to a new bar that just opened that night, and invited some other friends outside of his usual group to join.

You had to watch some girls you’ve never met (but Harry clearly has) flirt with him while he wore a hoodie you bought. You hated how much it infuriated you, because despite how much you longed for him to be yours, he wasn’t. Your relationship with him was just whatever it was.

And you hated it because you loved him. And you hated that you loved him.

The next morning, Sunday morning, you woke up in his arms wearing his T-Shirt. Anyone would think that you were his, but you weren’t. You were the first to wake up, as always, and Harry was snoring beneath you. You felt like his, but you weren’t.

The week flew past, you only came over a few times for a movie night and to keep him company while he edited. Both times he wanted you to sleep over, so both times you did. How could you ever say no to him?

But the next day, when you woke up, he was gone already - off to some meeting or to film. You didn’t want to let it hurt you, because you knew how busy he was, how hard he worked. He doesn’t have time for a relationship with you more than whatever it was.

So you chose to ignore the pit in your stomach that only grew every time you left his house or every time he left early. You grabbed your things, shot him a text, and left, pretending it didn’t bother you. Because it didn’t bother you. That was just how things were, and how they had to be.

The next Sunday morning, he broke your heart.

Things were too complicated, there were too many strings and they were all beginning to get knotted. He needed to untie them before the knot got too big.

And you understood, like you always do. It was for the best, if he kept whatever the relationship you two had going any longer, you might’ve fallen too hard and obtained permanent damage only he could mend. So you just nodded in understanding, not daring to meet his eyes, as he tried to let you down gently.

It broke his heart too.

Harry didn’t realize at first, he thought that with you gone his love for you would vanish as quick as you did. But he was reminded by it constantly. He found himself staring at the hoodie you bought him, until he got so frustrated and confused that he tore it off the hanger and threw it to the back of his wardrobe. But then he started seeing your face in all the little things you two used to always share, like the fluffy blue blanket on his couch and the cookies you got him hooked on.

Eventually he found himself laying on his bed alone on a Sunday morning with the fluffy blue blanket and the hoodie you bought him.

You both tried dating, but it didn’t fill the freshly dug hole in your hearts.

The thing with knots is that they’re hard to untie and the strings remain tangled. The harder you pull the strings in opposite directions, the tighter the knot gets.

When some girl Harry was on a date with a random Saturday night told him he was a good conversationalist, he rudely and abruptly told her he had to leave and this wasn’t going to work out. His anger masked the hurt he felt from missing you.

The next morning he woke up without you in his arms, which just felt wrong for a Sunday morning.

He thought about calling you, he even stared at your contact for about half an hour before he had the balls to get up, grab his hoodie and drive to your place. He had no idea what to say to you.

When you opened your door at eleven a.m. that Sunday morning, he was the last person you were expecting.

“What do you want?” You words were cold and your face was blank. He broke your heart, which broke his.

“I fucking miss you.”

“You can’t do this, Harry,” you tell him, voice shaky as you put all your energy into keeping your guard up. “It’s not fair. You ended things. You didn’t want whatever the fuck our relationship was.”

“I don’t want that,” Harry says bluntly. “Fuck that. I want more than that. I want you to be mine.”

You’re taken aback at his words, you never thought that he’d ever find enough time in his busy, fast-paced, hectic life for you.

“You broke my heart.”

“I know, love, and I’m sorry,” Harry takes a step forward, reaching out to you. He knows the effect ‘baby’ has on you. “I was a fucking dumbass. I thought - I thought whatever feelings I had for you would disappear when you left, but they didn’t. You’re everywhere.”

“I’m not having a label-less relationship with you,” you state. “I want it to be official.”

Harry nods, stepping closer to you again. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

This was the best Sunday morning of them all.

[sanguineness-wings]

Why are you running?

(read on ao3)

Pairing: Hawks x gn!Reader

Rating: SFW

Warnings: bird traits/instincts

hawks/raptors have this instinct to chase and attack if you turn your back on them, so what if you accidentally trigger it 👀

----------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was dipping low on the horizon, sending amber rays of light between the tightly packed skyscrapers. You shield your eyes from the light as you step out of the convenience store, your groceries in hand. After you take a moment for your eyes to adjust, you note a small crowd gathering just up the sidewalk from you. And from the center of it sprouts a large pair of crimson wings.

It’s a dead giveaway, those wings were plastered everywhere across the city, on billboards, on buses. There’s no escaping Hawks’ image.

As you watch on, the man himself suddenly hovers above his adoring fans, stretching out his impressive wing span leisurely. Leaving you with a perfect view of his wind tossed hair kissed with dying sunlight and a lopsided smile on his lips.

It makes your heart clench as you look on with awe. He’s so effortlessly beautiful it hurts to look at him. It’s also incredibly intimidating. How can those fans just talk to him like it’s nothing. You couldn’t even imagine.

Your staring must have caught his attention as suddenly his gaze turns and locks onto yours. You feel your stomach lurch, frozen with embarrassment. Hawks has the audacity to offer you a softer smile, making your cheeks heat up instantly.

Your brain screams at you to leave now. Your shyness urging you flee the unexpected attention. So you sharply turn your back to the crowd, and the gorgeous Pro Hero, and hurriedly make your escape.

Without consciously knowing why, you take a final glance over your shoulder. Even with Hawks’ signature visor over is eyes, you can see his pupils dilate, nearly completely blown black before constricting to tiny pin pricks in a split second. His smile has fallen from his face, leaving behind a cold blankness. A shiver runs through you and a cold sweat breaks out under your collar.

Your brain unhelpfully supplies, “Haha, I’m in danger!” Adrenaline courses through your veins and you run. A full sprint down the sidewalk in panic. It’s a ridiculous response in hindsight, but you’ve never seen such an inhuman look on Hawks’ face.

You barely make it a few feet before you feel a gust of wind behind you and suddenly your vision is nothing but red. Massive wings envelope you entirely as powerful arms lock around your waist, almost bruising in their strength. You’re dragged to your knees as the body behind you curls over your spine. You feel the prickle of stubble against your neck and jaw, hot puffs of breath against your skin. You’re utterly trapped.

All logical thoughts are thrown out the window with your heart thundering against your ribs. You don’t dare move a muscle.

An indiscernible amount of time passes before you hear a huffed laugh next to your ear, making you shudder.

“Well, isn’t this embarrassing, damn. I’m really sorry about all this. Are you alright?” Hawks says in a tight voice as he slowly releases you from his grip.

You’re shaking as you awkwardly stumble to your feet, Hawks aiding with a gentle, gloved hand on your elbow. When you finally get the courage to glance at his face, your heart does a somersault in your chest. A light blush dusts the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks. He has a hand behind his head sheepishly, using the other to steady you on your jelly-like legs.

“I haven’t done something like that since I was a teenager in training,” he admits, bashfulness coloring his voice.

“…and what was that exactly?” You finally find your voice, wincing inwardly at how shaken it sounds.

“Oh you know, like…bird stuff? Well, hawk stuff? Like predator instinct?” Hawks shifts from foot to foot, looking anywhere but you.

“Like...you thought I was prey?”

“No! No, it’s not like that. Well, I mean kind of. But not really? It’s hard to explain. You turned your back and I just…couldn’t help myself. I’m really sorry. Did I hurt you at all?” Seeing this level of uncomfortableness on Hawks was so jarring from how he normally carries himself in the public eye. It was like all of his confidence was parred away. 

“I’m okay, really. Just gave me a fright, that’s all.” You’re really trying your best to sound casual, adding a weak laugh to hopefully defuse the tension.

He humors you, offering a half-hearted smile as he stoops down to gather up your groceries that you didn’t notice had spilled across the sidewalk.

"Well, if you’re sure you’re okay, I should be off. A hero’s job never stops.”

And with that he’s gone, taking off into the sky. You stand there dumbly on the sidewalk in shock for a few beats.

You then hear murmuring, whispering, and the click of photos being captured. Horrified, you realize Hawks’ fans were watching everything and recorded every second of it. You curse under your breath as you start rushing home, ignoring the growing crowd behind you. If Hawks wasn’t going to eat you alive, the internet certainly was.

---

Get it together, Hawks. What the hell was that?

The winged hero cursed at himself with gritted teeth and a furrowed brow as he shot across the sky. He shouldn’t have done that. He was trained not to do that. The Commission pushed him hard to ignore the animalistic pull to hunt and another traits they deemed unsightly or dangerous. And he had gotten good at suppressing those instincts. He passed all of their tests and drills after years of intense training. He never had a slip up since starting his Pro career.

His mind was racing as he tried to pin point what made him react like that. Did he let his guard down? Got too comfortable in the moment?

He thought of the way you trembled in his arms, immobilized with fear. The thundering of your panicked heart and the quiver of your voice. A shiver crept down his spine, making his hair and feathers stand on end. He liked it. The thrill of it all lighting up parts of his brain long neglected. 

A frustrated growl escaped his lips, lost to the roar of the wind around him. He really shouldn’t be entertaining those thoughts, even for a moment. He felt gross. 

He dug his phone from his pocket, sending a text to his PR manager. The least he could do was give them a heads up. Though pictures and videos of the whole incident were probably already circulating. His PR team had their work cut out for them, it was a seriously bad look for the hero. 

Almost immediately after he sent the text his phone buzzed angrily with replies from his team and an incoming call from the Commission. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach. It was going to be a long night.

---

The days following were a nightmarish blur of embarrassment and anxiety. Your brief brush with Hawks was plastered across every social media platform. You couldn’t escape all of the memes and GIFs. You wanted nothing more than to blink from existence.

Most people thought the whole thing was funny, even wishing it was them tackled to the sidewalk by Hawks. Your coworkers teased you mercilessly, constantly asking if you at least got his number afterwards. 

There weren’t many, but a few comments filled you with anger. They were using this to fuel for their hatred towards those with heteromorphic quirks. They claimed that this proved they were dangerous, nothing more than animals. Which, of course, was ridiculous. 

But you did your best to keep your head down and ignore the notifications on your phone. You kept reassuring yourself that this would all blow over soon. And sure enough by the end of the week the internet was distracted by “leaked” selfies of Hawks in grey sweatpants, posing in front of a bathroom mirror.

---

Hawks had just started an early morning patrol as he glided and weaved through the streets. He’d been taking on extra hours lately, finding it easier to distract himself on the job rather than staring at his bedroom ceiling. Who needed sleep anyway. If he stopped, all he could think about was you. The fear on your face. Your frantic pulse against his skin. Guilt gnawed away at him. He didn’t want to scare you, what type of hero would he be if he did. 

Instead of dwelling on the thoughts eating at him, he focused on the streets below him. It was relatively quiet, only a scattering of people going about their lives. He swooped lower, maneuvering between lamp posts just for his own entertainment. He pulled up short abruptly, nearly smacking into one of them.

His heart lurched in his chest, recognizing you immediately as you made your way down the street. He had a little mental battle with himself. Half of him wanted to talk to you, just reassure himself that you were truly okay after all this madness. The other have was telling him to leave you alone, that he’d only made it worse.

After hovering awkwardly for a few moments he made his decision. He made a show of circling ahead of you before landing, trying not to startle you. 

---

Having Hawks appear in front of you was the very last thing you expected on your walk to work. You had convinced yourself that you’d never see him again and that, even if your paths crossed, he wouldn’t want to be seen with you.

Yet here he was, with a charming smile on his face and feathers gleaming in the sun. 

You approach him cautiously, pulling out your earbuds. “Um, hi?” you start apprehensively, not sure what the hero could possibly want from you.

As you catch up to him he starts walking beside you, joining you on your commute. His wing stretches out behind you and curls around your side. Smart, you think. Even if the two of you catch someone’s eye, you were largely blocked from view.

It’s comfortably warm beneath his wing, with your shoulders brushing against each other as you walk. Your heart speeds up a little, being this close to him is a little overwhelming. Especially with the memory of him being pressed over you still fresh in your mind.

“So, I wanted to start over, if that’s alright with you. I don’t think I gave you the best first impression,” Hawks explains, his eyes fixed ahead.

“Definitely a memorable one,” you quip lightheartedly. You were more mortified by all of the unwanted attention. You knew deep down you were never in any real danger. 

Hawks snorts, making you glance at him. You watch him roll his eyes. “Not my best moment. I’m really sorry I scared you so badly. I swear I’m not going to hurt you, or anyone.”

It makes you pause as you stare at the side of his face. “I know you wouldn’t. And you didn’t even leave a mark. We can just say it was a...weird, unexpected hug. Leave it at that.”

Hawks’ gaze catches yours for a brief moment before looking away quickly, a serious look sliding onto his features. “You know that’s not what it was.”

“I know but...I’m not going to judge you for your bird stuff, or whatever it is. You’re still human. Even with the wings. We all have weird, awkward tendencies. I’m a mess of them too, and I don’t even have a Quirk. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.

“So don’t beat yourself up too much,” you say, gaining a bit of confidence the more you speak. “You’re not a monster.”

Silence stretches between the two of you, both lost in thought. You surprise yourself when you are the first to break it. 

“Besides, I thought we were starting over. I’m y/n,” you begin, nudging his shoulder with your own as you offer him a warm smile.

“I’m Hawks, but you already knew that. Say, why don’t I treat you to some coffee. There’s this great little cafe not far from here. They have these pastries that are to die for. Trust me, you’ll love it!” The hero chatters away, with you still safely tucked away under his wing.

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

(kicks down door) SPIDER MK REVEAL WIP YOU SAY???

YEAH OKAY, YOU GAVE ME PERMISSION TO WRITE SOMETHING A WHILE BACK AND I WROTE THIS WHOLE THING THAT I JUST NEVER POSTED CAUSE, NSFKSDFME ENDINGS AL;SM;AOHGOWE

Anyway, if y'all don't know this is a little something for strangelace's Spider Monkie AU in which Mk is the son of the spider queen and is, well, a spider demon. He uses glamours to hide it, and Red Son is immediately suspicious of him and pretty much runs himself ragged trying to pry the secret out of him, while Mk's trying desperately to keep him (and everyone else) from finding out he's actually a demon. (hop on over to her blog if you want more content on that)

This fic is of the moment where Red Son's theories are confirmed. It's a little scattered and all over the place, and I have no idea how to wrap it up, but here's a piece from it lkmf;OAWHWE <3

The swarm of small demons that had attacked them earlier were still in the caverns somewhere, and Red Son was going to lead them straight to them if he didn’t stop talking so loudly.

“I’m not a demon,” Mk said, forcing himself to remain calm.

“Yes you are! If you aren’t then why did you not tremble in fear and awe when we first encountered one another?”

“Because you’re not scary,” he said.

Red Son looked at him in offended outrage, and Mk thought for a moment that maybe he shouldn't have added fuel to the fire, but he was just so done with the interrogation. The paranoia and fear of the others finding out was only made worse by Red Son’s constant prying, and he was getting sick of the guilty feeling in his gut.

“Just admit it!” Red Son shouted again, grabbing his arm to stop him from continuing forward. His fingers dug into his arms and his hair threatened to catch on fire, something that would be a sure beacon, screaming their current position to any and all creatures in the cave system.

Mk tore his arm out of his grip, bristling, and gritting his teeth to keep himself from yelling back. “Shut. Up, Red Son.”

“I’m not crazy,” he snarled at him, and very suddenly Mk noticed just how haggard he looked. His hair was a disaster, barely contained by the hairband, sticking up and out in many places, and it had been like that even before they tumbled into the caves. There were dark circles under his wild, slightly glassy eyes, that spoke of very little sleep and too much caffeine, and he almost seemed to be shaking slightly.

His anger drained out of him abruptly, leaving him standing in the wide cavern looking at his self-proclaimed nemesis, who was breathing hard, clenching his fists, hair flickering weakly, but still not bursting into flames like it usually would have by now, and looking very much like the only thing keeping him on his feet was his 100% correct theory that he would just not let go of.

He was a mess.

Mk couldn’t help but blame himself for it. Red Son was right, after all, and Mk was the one who kept insisting he wasn’t, lying to him and to his friends all because he was too afraid that they wouldn’t want him around if they knew.

“When’s the last time you slept?” he asked quietly.

Red Son bristled. “That doesn’t matter!”

“You’re obsessing over this, it’s not healthy,” Mk told him.

“I’m right,” Red Son stressed, like it was the only thing that mattered, and wow it was really obvious now that he hadn’t slept in a while.

“No,” Mk said, like a coward. “You’re not.”

Red Son gave a wordless, frustrated yell of rage and tackled him.

Wip list post (ask me about em) 

[babylooneytoonz]

The Vessel [Pt. 2]

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem! Reader

Chapter Summary: It takes two to make a baby, even with the Mage's spell and the Witcher's seed.

Warning: SMUT, 18+

[My Masterlist]

A/N- I wanted to wait until tomorrow to publish this but I got such an amazing response to first chapter i was emotionally tormented to post this. Thank you all. 💗✨

The Great Mount stood tall, the only place that Yennefer's portals could not open a door to— and this journey from Redania which had lasted over thirty days had finally come to an end.

And it was finally time—

Yennefer smelled like dirt and lavender at the same time, and not a single strand of her hair was out of place, as she hopped off Roach and you followed, getting off the mare so Geralt could tie her to a nearby tree.

The summit of the Mount didn't look unusual, like you had expected but you noticed how there were massive boulders lined in a circular shape with carved imprints on it.You remembered Yennefer telling you about this place once— it was like a sanctuary for the mages, a place that had its own sanctity, that not even the most powerful mage could open a portal to reach here faster. It was like all the spells and all the magic outside of this place was cut off, and the Mount stood disconnected from it all.

Your heart was now thumping wildly inside your chest, and Jaskier could feel it. You felt him place a comforting hand on your elbow and you turned towards him, giving him a frightened smile. You knew he could understand how you wanted to back out now, but you were too knee deep into this little tryst that even if you tried, Yennefer will not let you go.

You looked at the Witcher, noticing how he now sat against one of the shallow heighted boulders, sharpening his sword. It looked like he was least interested in what Yennefer was now doing, but there were times his eyes lifted and fixed on her and then he withdrew them again. You frowned, forcing yourself to look away as nervousness slowly drained your insides.

The man didn't even look at you— and it won't be long when this man will be ruining you, fucking his seed into you so you could carry their spawn.

Jaskier nudged at your arm, and it was only then that you realized that Yennefer was calling you, and Geralt was already there, "Jas', I'm not ready for this. Tell me I can run away." You whispered into his ears, and his low chuckle reached your ears.

"If you didn't have a viable womb, I would have said, run away and she won't follow you."

You knew the bard was right; you couldn't run away, Yennefer would find you with a blink of her eye. Slowly, you exhaled, your fingers nervously fiddling with each other as you walked up to where Geralt and Yennefer were, your steps slow and forced. Your knees felt like they were going to give up beneath you.

The minute you reached Yennefer, her hand lashed out, abruptly grabbing your wrist, her dagger slashing against the flesh on your palm. Instinctively, you let out a hiss, trying to yank your arm away but her hold on it was strong. She held a wooden bowl underneath your bleeding palm, letting all your blood collect until there was no more oozing out of the wound. She then let go off your palm, and you pulled it back, wincing as you pressed it against your chest.

You couldn't help yourself when you lifted your tear filled eyes, but found the Witcher's eyes fixed on you. He was standing face towards you, almost towering over you, his white hair messily sticking to the side of his face, but that didn't seem to bother him. His face held no expression whatsoever, but you could feel his burning gaze on you, that looked even more fiery because of the colour of his eyes. Geralt gave Yennefer his palm much more gracefully, and you watched as she made a cut on his palm and he didn't as much blink when his flesh was cut. He then squeezed the blood out into the same bowl that had your almost coagulating blood in it until the bowl was brimming with red until the top.

Yennefer moved away, holding that bowl in her hand until she was kneeling inside the circle of boulders. You could see her lips move, as though in an enchantment, her hands drawn out and hovering over the bowl.

After a few minutes, her chanting stopping. She stood up, the bowl still in her hand as she walked up to the two of you and her gaze turned towards you.

"Drink, both of you," her voice lacked any emotion.

"If this doesn't work—" Geralt began, in his low, irritated voice, but Yennefer's nostrils flared, and she looked at him with looks that could kill, causing him to grunt and stop speaking as she cut him off.

"It will work, Geralt. It has to work." She snapped, handing the white haired man the bowl. All the while, you remained quiet, but you could sense it— their relationship was not as ideal as it looked like, and there were cracks that were beginning to form. You watched as Geralt brought the bowl to his lips, and he swallowed a mouthful of the blood, until a droplet was trickling down the side of his lips. He then handed the bowl to you and you looked down at it, swallowing bile before your trembling hand brought the bowl up and you also took in a mouthful, although swallowing it was difficult than what you had imagined.

You thought it was awkward at first when not just one but two pair of eyes were gawking at your naked form while you and Geralt performed the ritual of being slathered by the remaining blood— by each other.

But you couldn't deny how soft Geralt's hands felt against your skin, his touch having a raw, tantalising effect on you. His fingers brushed adeptly over your breasts as he spread the coagulated blood over your ivory skin, and it wasn't like you didn't notice, but instead bit your lip to refrain from letting out a moan when a barely audible groan erupted from the Witcher's lips, the minute he felt how taut and erect your nipples were.

He guided you to the ground so now you were laying right in the middle of the circle, your face shot upwards towards the starry sky. His fingers moved, rather gently, from your breasts down your waistline until he was running his fingers against the insides of your thighs, causing a sudden heat to pool up in your core. You knew what he was doing— he was indeed preparing the lamb to be slaughtered, yet your body didn't want him to stop.

"Geralt, fuck her senseless and get it over with. Fill her up until there's not a drop left inside of you."

Geralt grunted in response to Yennefer's words, ignoring her as she walked off, grabbing the bard's arm as she pulled him along with her, something you were thankful to her for. You didn't want them to stay and watch the two of you fucking on display.

"Call me when you're done, my love," her cold, distant voice called out.

Geralt let out a throaty grunt, straight from the pit of his throat. There was no denial inside of you, this man was beautiful, beyond beautiful. But you had grown up to understand that all things that were beautiful on the surface were in fact, corroded from the inside. And so was the Witcher.

"Open your legs," he ordered, his voice low and overbearing, just like a command that you knew you had to follow. Geralt's eyes darkened when you listened to him, without hesitation, his wolfish stare fixed on you as you spread your legs for him, your core heated up and aching for him already. There you were, dripping wet for the man to take you, the way he wanted to and he grunted in appreciation, his slick finger sliding through your folds, making you arch your body and let out a mewl.

"Look at you, little pet, all wet for me already when all I've barely done is look at you," he rasped through your ear, while at the same time, a second finger slid through your folds and instinctively, your hands flew to the back of his head, your fingers coiling around his hair, your breathing hitched, and it surely didn't help when he began grunting and whispering against your ears again, "Goin' to fill you up until you're all swollen with my child."

And Yennefer's— You reminded yourself.

With a swift, almost effortless movement, Geralt grabbed you by your hips, lifting your lower body up and pushing your legs to rest against his shoulders, his raging, massive cock already lined with your entrance. This was it—

Without giving you a warning, he pushed his swollen head into you, trying to be as gentle as he could, for he was aware that this was your first time, thus giving you the time to get used to his size as he stretched you up. You couldn't hold back the scream that escaped your lips— a scream that was a mixture of your anguish and your pleasure both.

You felt weird; on one side the burning was clawing out the tears from your eyes, but at the same time, the pleasure was making you begin to shudder, your hips automatically aligning yourself to his as you adjusted to him. His hands flew to your breasts, while at the same time, he released a grunt of pleasure and began rocking into you.

His thrusts into you were a mix of both— gentle when he thought that he was hurting you and quickly picking up pace when your nails instinctively dug into his sides, and he felt you trying to squirm underneath him, knowing that this was your body's way of telling him that it wanted— needed more.

"Fuck, so tight," he let out a groan, as he completely pulled out of you, leaving you all hot and heavy, your core throbbing wildly in rebellion against the sudden withdrawal, before slamming into you again, "Look at you, taking me so well."

You didn't realize when you closed your eyes, your vision going blurry as an overwhelming pleasure shot through you and your orgasm took you. You couldn't help but gasp, your jaw falling wide open into a perfect o, as a loud, screeching cry of pleasure shot through your lips. Your screams, in turn, were met with with even deeper thrusts by the Witcher, his cock ravaging you as he fucked you even harder at the sound of your cries— his own mouth unable to contain a chain of curses and guttural cries of pleasure that flowed effortlessly through his lips.

Geralt's movements finally became sloppy, until, with a guttural groan, he finally collapsed over your tiny frame, his sweaty face pressed against your blood caked shoulder until you felt his cock twitch inside of you, his hot seed filling you up. He rolled off and landed on his back next to you, the two of you staring blankly at the sky, the only sound the two of you could now hear was the sound of each other's breaths.

Neither said a word, until you didn't know why, you rolled over to your side, and let your head rest against Geralt's bicep, and what surprised you even more was the fact that he didn't shove you off, and instead, his heavy words invaded your ears, "Are you okay?"

This was the first time you felt any kind of warmth towards you from the Witcher, and you didn't know whether it was the after effects of sex, that you suddenly felt so emotional, tears brittlly threatening to spill from your eyes.

"I am, I, uh —"

You began speaking but immediately clenched your lips shut when you heard the familiar voices of the Mage, and the bard, getting closer and closer towards the two of you.

Geralt stood up, throwing out his arm towards you, and you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his amber ones briefly, and you placed your palm in his, effortlessly being pulled off the ground, when the bard finally emerged, with your clothing in his hands.

"Tell me all about it, later, " he winked playfully at you, having handed you your clothes as you began sliding your tunic on.

"There's nothing to tell, Jaskier." You pressed your lips together, not wanting to look into Jaskier's eyes. What were you supposed to tell him? How good it felt having Geralt of Rivia inside you?

The Vessel Taglist:

@kawennote09 @viking-raider @raspberrydreamclouds @pterodactylterrace

Let me know if you want me to add you to this list. 💗

[yourheartonfire]

A continuation of this:

The door hissed open and the protagonist jolted up to their feet. The Supervillain paused in the doorway with a polite, amused smile, waiting to see what the protagonist would try. Turning red, the protagonist sat back down again on the bed in a jangle of chain.

After their exit from the party at knifepoint, the Supervillain had whisked them off to a penthouse apartment that was not the address on file for their fictional company persona. In the back of their closet was the hidden door to this saferoom - bigger than the protagonist's actual bedroom, they noted to themselves with fury. The first night the Supervillain had handcuffed them to the bunk. A few hours later, they'd returned with a bag of groceries and longer chain and shackle - just long enough to reach the necessity on one side and the mini fridge on the other. Not long enough to reach the control panel by the door. Or to reach the Supervillain as they set up a little folding table in the center of the room and laid out take out boxes. Two place settings. Plastic forks only, no silverware and not even a plastic butter knife.

"Why aren't I dead?" the protagonist said. Their voice, embarrassingly, cracked and the Supervillain chuckled as they pulled up a chair for themselves.

"I win," they said, hitching the table just close enough for the protagonist to reach. "I had a bet with myself that would be the first thing you said."

The protagonist clenched their fists and tried to ignore the amazing smells wafting from the table. It had been a long time living on cold cuts and fruit. "How long have I been here?"

The Supervillain laughed. "And that was the second thing."

"Oh, very impressive," the protagonist snapped. "Something happens and you go 'Ha ha ha I knew that was going to happen, I'm so smart, blah blah blah.'"

The Supervillain cocked their head. The protagonist went silent again, heart racing.

"To answer your second question," they said mildly. "Three days. To answer your third question," they said louder, before the protagonist could do more than sputter, "No one's missed you. You emailed out sick. Your poor mother's health again. Everyone's being very respectful. To your face," they added. "You should see what they're saying about you in the office chats. Are you going to eat?"

The protagonist swallowed hard but took the fork and a foam box. It was salmon over a bed of rice pilaf. The protagonist loved salmon. They glared at the Supervillain and dug in. "And the first question?" they said through a full mouth.

The Supervillain didn't seem bothered. They twirled noodles around their fork, stabbed a piece of shrimp. "Frankly, darling, I don't quite know myself," they smirked and took a bite. "You are an unexpected complication, and you've forced me to acceler - well." They cut themselves off, took a sip from their bottle of water. "Never mind that. Do you know, I fully intended to kill you once I got you down to the garage. But I didn't!" they said cheerfully. "It has been so long since someone surprised me - even in such a small and ultimately meaningless way."

The protagonist reached for their own water, locking their fingers around the bottle to keep their hands from trembling. The chain rattled embarrassingly loud. "And it wasn't because of that kiss, of course," they said softly.

The Supervillain paused again mid gesture. Looking decidedly less amused this time. They put their fork down, laid those super strong hands flat on the folding table. "There's so many possible uses for you," they said silkily. "Hostage. Ransom. Scapegoat. Captive audience when I need to do a bit of gloating." They picked up the table, food and all, and slid it to the side. The protagonist flinched back, suddenly without the barrier - however flimsy - between them. "But it is interesting that you bring that kiss up," the Supervillain went on, eying the protagonist up and down in a way that made them blush again. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in being seduced to my side?"

"What? No!" The protagonist bolted up again. "You're - you're amoral and vicious and you kidnapped me -!"

"Ah!" the Supervillain said. "You'd just like to be seduced then."

For a split second the protagonist froze. That was all the time the Supervillain needed to catch the chain, to yank them into their arms.

And then they were kissing again. This time the protagonist was kissing back. It was self- defense, really; they couldn't afford to be overwhelmed again. The Supervillain seemed to like it, making a pleased hum as the protagonist fumbled their free hand under the villain's shirt, against their skin.

This time it was the Supervillain who broke it off first, eyes gleaming in the harsh florescent light. "You are full of surprises," they murmured, strokely a finger gently along the protagonist's cheekbone. And then abruptly they shoved the protagonist back against the wall, pinning them there with a hand to their neck. "But I won't underestimate you twice. Give me back my phone."

"Hm?" the protagonist croaked, wide-eyed. But the Supervillain was already plucking the slim box from the protagonist's fingers, where they'd been trying to slip it into their pocket. The Supervillain chuckled and tucked the phone away again.

"You can't do things like that and expect me not to want to keep you," they said, relaxing their grip. "I haven't had this much fun on a date in years."

"This is not - You can't keep me here!" the protagonist protested. "Someone - my friends - will notice I'm gone!"

The Supervillain smiled and leaned in. "By the end of the week," they whispered in the protagonist's ears, "Your friends aren't really going to be a concern."

They strode out without a look back, the door hissing shut behind them.

The protagonist gave it about tennish minutes, curled up on the bed in defeat, before sliding out the real thing they'd stolen off the Supervillain - a ballpoint pen. They got to work disassembling it under the covers. This would help breaking into the wires running through the back panels behind the bunk and - if the Supervillain wasn't lying - they didn't have much time.

They definitely were not still thinking about that kiss.

Now wrapped up in Part 3 here!

[uswntxfootball]

i don’t want to watch the world end with someone else (jackie groenen x muwfc!reader)

a media takeover day makes you realize just how bad you are at hiding your feelings. 

word count: 2634 ish

rated P for painful pining, C FOR CHEESY AS FUCK, and F for fluFF ciTY.

song inspo: clinton kane’s i don’t want to watch the world end with someone else

——

“so is everything clear?”

you and jackie exchange a glance and nod.

casey smiles and says:

“good good. it’ll happen tomorrow so just make sure you follow the guidelines that i gave, though i have no doubt you two will do just fine.”

with that said, she gave a wave and left the call.

you lean forward closing the laptop that sat on the table in front of you, before leaning back on the couch behind you.

jackie promptly laid her head on your shoulder, and you wiggled your arm around her, settling it around the back of her neck, her hand coming up to grasp yours.

your heart threatened to explode out of your chest at the act.

this wasn’t uncommon between the two of you.

you were always holding hands wherever you went, always touching, and always flirting.

this of course, didn’t go unnoticed.

as a result jackie and you have dismissed thousands of press and fan questions, with each and every “we’re just friends” sending a dagger through your heart.

yet here you were, quarantined with her in manchester, holding onto the foolish hope that things might work out.

falling in love with your best friend wasn’t part of the plan, but there wasn’t anything you could do about it now.

“y/n.”

“hmm?” you hum out, watching the girl beside you play with your fingers absentmindedly.

“what if the fans think i’m boring?”

you sit up abruptly and jackie turns to look at you.

“jacks. you’ve got to be joking right? if there’s people who think you’re boring, i don’t want to meet them,” you huff.

jackie rolls her eyes.

“well that’s you. you’re biased you don’t count.”

you gasp in mock offense.

“i don’t count? how rude i- this is how i get treated for-“

jackie cut you off while pulling you into a hug.

“oh shut up you big baby.”

you look up at her and stick your tongue out at her, an action which she returns.

getting a little lost in her eyes, the two of you maintained eye contact for an unusual amount of time, the tension almost tangible.

it’s only when jackie’s phone buzzes on the table that you both break away, cheeks red.

you clear your throat quickly and stand up.

looking at jackie’s flushed face you tease:

“you know you’re cute when you blush.”

her face flushed even redder.

“oh shut up.”

~~

you woke up the next day at the same time you normally do.

the girl beside you was still fast asleep and you couldn’t help but stare a little at the sight.

her hair a mess and currently taking up more than half the bed with her limbs strewn about, you couldn’t be more into it.

there was just something about her.

you shook your head softly.

breaking your eyes away, you began getting ready for your run.

logging into the manchester united instagram page, you recorded a quick video greeting everyone for the day.

“hi everyone! i’m y/n, a forward for manchester united, which you probably knew already, but i’m going to be taking over this account with jackie today!”

after a little pause you continue in a whisper.

“i’m getting ready to go on a run right now, trying to be a little quieter because a certain midfielder is still fast asleep.”

“she snores too,” you added quietly with a giggle. “but i’ll be back in a bit guys!”

jackie would get you back for that later.

you got back from your run about half an hour later, with the midfielder still asleep.

changing out of your running clothes, you made a quick breakfast and some coffee for the two of you, and opened the account again.

you prop your phone up in front of you and begin recording.

“so i just got back from my run, made some breakfast, and guess who’s still asleep.”

you point towards the door behind you.

“hint it’s jackie. i even made her breakfast too. i think i should get like a “best friend in the world” award or something. i’m way too good of a friend to her. anyways that’s it for now, i’ll update you if sleeping beauty ever wakes. bye!”

you finished your breakfast while scrolling through twitter, smiling when you see some of the fans freaking out over the prospect of the two of you quarantining together.

after a little bit you heard the door behind you open, looking up to see a very sleepy (and frankly very cute) jackie groenen in it’s place.

your heart fluttered in your chest.

“coffee?” you offer, grinning at the enthusiastic nod that jackie gave you.

jackie’s cheeks flushed a little when she looked around.

“you made me breakfast?”

“well since someone slept in of course i did.”

the midfielder rolled her eyes and smiled, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before she walked over to the counter.

you felt like you were going to pass out.

if jackie noticed your shallow breathing and flushed cheeks, she didn’t comment.

“have you recorded anything yet?”

you nod, taking out your phone to show her the account.

she pauses for a moment before propping the phone up in front and starts recording.

“hi guys! i hope y/n didn’t bore you too much this morning-”

you cut her off with a gasp.

“me?! i’m obviously the fun one here! she-ow!’

jackie interrupted you with a punch.

you pouted, rubbing your shoulder.

“see she bullies me too.”

“oh she’s so dramatic,” jackie says while rolling her eyes.

the two of you get so preoccupied with bickering that you forget all about the video.

it’s only when you turn a little bit when you notice.

“damn the fans are gonna get the jackie-y/n quarreling special today.”

jackie snorts at that, deciding to post the 2 minute video with the label you had so lovingly created.

the story post read:

“an early christmas present for the muwfc fans; featuring a 2 minute jackie-y/n quarreling special”

followed by a post that read:

“we’ll be going live in around an hour so make up some good questions for us!”

while you were posting those, you missed the loving smile and stare from the girl next to you.

~~

you grinned when you saw the next question.

“has jackie found out about your post from this morning yet?”

jackie turned to look at you, her eyes narrowing.

“what did you say?”

“hmmm nothing nothing”

“no what- tell me!”

you pretended to think for a moment before answering:

“hmmm nope”

you let out a squeak of surprise when jackie’s fingers suddenly dug into your sides.

“fine! fine! i’ll tell you!” you relent, your chest heaving slightly.

“i just said that you snore is all,” you answered quickly.

jackie gasped loudly.

“i do not!”

“yes she does she-“

your sentence gets cut off when jackie pulls you into a headlock.

“you can’t silence me! jackie snores li-“

she slapped a hand over your mouth.

“okay anyways. let’s keep goin-ew y/n!”

jackie pulled her hand back with a grimace, you smiling triumphantly.

“she licked me,” jackie whined, wiping her hand on your shirt.

a few seconds later her hand settled on your thigh, and you swore you saw her smirk when you inhaled sharply.

a little flustered, you cleared your throat quickly before turning to the screen, noting the incoming flurry of comments about how cute the two of you are together.

jackie read the next question.

“are you guys dating?”

she gave the camera a wink when she said:

“y/n wishes.”

you rolled your eyes.

“we all know you want to. i mean who wouldn’t want to date me? i’m just the hottest person you’ve ever seen and-”

“oh and she’s cocky too,” jackie added with a grin, letting out a laugh at your expression.

you turn back to screen in time to catch another question.

“can jackie play something for us?”

jackie excitedly answered a “yes”, before standing up to grab her guitar.

you shuffled over to the other side of the couch when jackie got back.

here you sat watching the midfielder talk animatedly about her song choice.

you didn’t hear much of it, instead getting lost staring at the dutch girl, her smile wide and eyes sparkling.

“y/n what do you think?”

it snaps you out of your daze.

an “i think you’re beautiful” flashed through your mind, but what came out was:

“uh i-sorry what?”

jackie giggled.

“i’ll take that as a yes then.”

a soft guitar melody filled the air a few seconds after.

this was going to be a disaster.

~~

when jackie started singing you promptly forgot how to breathe.

you could feel your heart racing in your chest, butterflies exploding in your stomach.

her voice filled the air, and her presence was absolutely intoxicating.

strikingly blue eyes met yours during the chorus, and when she smiled softly you seriously felt like you were going to pass out.

and i wish we didn’t say goodbye

cause we’re just standing still

and i don’t really know what tomorrow holds

your heart was threatening to explode, and the three words you’ve kept buried for so long were beginning to make their way out from the back of your mind.

you didn’t know if you could make it to the end of the song.

you didn’t know if you could not tell her.

but i’ve finally realized

if this is our last goodbye until we’re gone

who cares about the wrongs we’ve caused ourselves

cause i don’t want to watch the world end with someone else

it didn’t help that jackie kept smiling at you, her eyes locking with yours and making your brain and heart go into overdrive.

it didn’t help that jackie was just so utterly attractive.

no, it didn’t help at all.

while the two of you were off in your own little world, the fans were going crazy, many picking up on the loving glances the two of you exchanged.

~~

the livestream ended not long after the song did.

and when it did you were torn.

do you keep it to yourself?

or do you risk it all for the measly hope that by some miracle she liked you back?

your heart preferred the second.

and in a game of internal tug o war, your heart won.

“jackie.”

the midfielder whipped around to face you.

fuck she’s pretty.

“i’m-“

fuck.

the words were sitting right on the tip of your tongue.

“i-“

jackie gave you a confused expression.

“you’re what?”

“i forgot to tell you that uhm-“

fuck the words. the words were right there. just say them.

jackie tilted her head to the side, puzzled.

“you forgot to tell me what?”

you cursed at her internally for being so cute.

“i-“

you gulped.

you can do this.

its just three words. three-

“i didn’t do the laundry.”

fuck.

jackie’s puzzled expression turns into a teasing one.

“that’s what you were so nervous to tell me? come on i’m not that scary am i?”

you shook your head, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“hey look, we can do it together then,” jackie said with a smile, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the room.

~~

shit.

this turned out to be way harder than you thought.

you had tried, multiple times on multiple occasions.

your tongue however, wouldn’t let you.

each and every time you failed, coming up with the strangest excuses for your bumbling.

you’re pretty sure you accidentally said that you forgot to fold the dishes once.

jackie just thought it was cute.

though your relationship didn’t change much, you did notice a persistent blush on the midfielder’s cheeks whenever you held her hand.

you didn’t comment on it though.

~~

jackie’s sitting next to you on the tiny kitchen counter.

the two of you are having dinner, having just come back from training, bickering about soccer (or as jackie called it, “football”) and how she missed her shot last game.

which was ironic because being this close to the midfielder made you feel like you were missing your shots.

anyways.

“oh come on it wasn’t like i was trying to miss!”

“could’ve fooled me,” you laugh, jackie gasping in offense.

“like you could’ve done any better.”

“yes i could! in fact i have a higher shooting accuracy than-“

“oh come on that was based off of our shots from like ages ago!”

“potato pota-“

“y/n!”

you smile at jackie’s indignant outcry.

“i’m just better at soccer than you,” you tease.

“one it’s football. two no you’re not.”

“yes i am.”

“no you’re not.”

“i am.”

“you’re no-“

“i love you.”

jackie stops talking.

your eyes go wide when you realize what you said.

jackie’s voice is soft when she stammers:

“wh-what?”

“i-“

you take a deep breath.

welp. here we go.

“i love you. and i’ve been trying so hard not to say it, but you make it so hard for me not to and i- i’ve been in love with you for years now jacks and i just i can’t help myself. it’s like im-“

“y/n. stop.”

you didn’t hear her.

“it’s just you. all the time. when i wake up and when i go to sleep and it doesn’t help that we’re quarantined together which is why i was trying to hard not to say it because if you hated me and this all goes to hell what would we do? i’m sorry if i’m screwing everything up i didn’t even plan on saying it today it just happened and i-“

you’re cut off from your rambling when jackie launches herself at you.

you’re frozen, with jackie hugging you tightly, unsure of what it meant, whether she hated you or not.

then.

a whisper so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

“i love you too.”

you almost fall off the counter.

you look at her with wide eyes, your heartbeat in your ears, worried that you might have heard her wrong.

“you-what?”

jackie pulls back to look at you.

fuck she’s so gorgeous.

“i said i love you too,” she whispers, looking down and looking almost the tiniest bit shy.

god you want to kiss her.

“do it then,” jackie challenges.

your ears heat up a tiny bit, realizing you said that aloud.

“are-are you sure?”

she nodded, and upon seeing your hesitation just decided to do it herself.

she tilts your head up by your chin and all of a sudden your mind goes blank.

everyone always talks about how the perfect kiss feels like fireworks, but you didn’t feel that here.

instead you felt like you were floating, with only the girl in your lap keeping you grounded.

one of jackie’s hands was on your cheek, another tracing on the back of your neck, and you felt weightless.

she broke the kiss after a while.

your heart was pounding so hard it was a miracle you were still alive.

the two of you sat quietly for a while, jackie on your lap with her head against your chest, until she broke the silence.

“that song was about you if you didn’t know.”

your heart fluttered again. the things she did to you.

“really?”

jackie nodded.

she looked up and before she kissed you she whispered:

“you’re the only one i’d want to watch the world end with.”

[jayeray-hq]

How He Shows You Affection: Kuroo Tetsurou

This one honestly really sucks to have to re-post because it did have a lot of notes thanks to the amazing people on Haikyuu Headquarters who helped me out. However I do want it to show up in the tags so here we are. 😢😢😢 Notes: 120

Post Time Skip/Manga Spoilers!

Warnings: Slight groping, very slight implied NSFW

How He Shows You Affection Masterlist - Character Masterlist

He Fusses Over You

            “Tetsurou?!” you asked more than a little shocked to see your boyfriend standing on your doorstep. You hadn’t expected him to come over, and you frantically wracked your brain trying to figure out if you’d forgotten something or maybe missed a message somewhere, but you were almost sure you hadn’t, “What are you doing here?”

“Aww Kitten, you make it sound like you’re not happy to see me,” he told you a teasing smile on his face, “You going to let me in?”

             “Of course, I’m happy to see you,” you told him taking a step back to let him in, “I just wasn’t expecting you.”

             Which was true. You’d specifically told him earlier that you’d be busy all day, working on a project, so you’d actually expected the opposite, that you wouldn’t get to see him until tomorrow.

             “I know,” he told you sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he eyed you from beneath his bangs, “But I was in the area, thought I’d stop by and see if you’d eaten yet? I brought food.”

             He held up the bag he had in one of his hands that you’d failed to notice, holding it out to you like a peace offering. You immediately noticed the logo on the bag was from one of your favorite take out places, and your heart stomach immediately rumbled eagerly, making you blush. You’d gotten so caught up in your project that you hadn’t actually stopped to eat and were only just belatedly realizing that you were starving.

             “I’ll take that as a no you haven’t,” your boyfriend told you a slightly scolding tone to his voice that made you rather sheepish in turn, “Come on kitten let’s get you fed.”

             You conceded with good grace, and the two of you went to the kitchen. You were even hungrier than you’d initially thought and eagerly dug into your food as your boyfriend watched on, looking half amused, half exasperated.

             “You really need to learn to take breaks,” he told you a concerned frown on his face, “Or at least eat snacks. Going without eating for so long lowers your blood sugar and makes it harder for you to concentrate so it’s better to stop and eat.”

             “You’re one to talk,” you told him amused.

             “Hey I may not take breaks, but I have mastered the art of eating and working at the same time,” he defended with a grin.

             “Tell that to the report you dripped ramen broth all over,” you sassed back.

             “That was one time,” he protested.

             “Crumbs in my couch,” you listed off on your fingers, unable to resist teasing him, “barbeque sauce on your shirt, rice on the floor.”

             “Okay, okay more than once,” he admitted wryly, “But at least I can say I actually eat!”

             You huffed but couldn’t argue with that. He was actually pretty good about his meals, and usually kept an enormous bottle of water and a thermos of tea around too whenever he had long projects.

             “Have a glass of water too,” he told you standing walking to the sink to fetch you just that, clearly reading your mind, “It’s important to keep hydrated!”

             You indulged him, drinking the water he offered and finishing your food all under his watchful eye. Once you’d finished eating he helped you clean up quickly, and paused one last time by the door.

             “Don’t stay up too late,” he told you cupping your cheeks in his palms and affectionately running his thumbs over your cheekbones, “Get at least seven hours of sleep.”

             “I’ll do my best,” you assured him amused and feeling extremely warm and loved from his clear concern for you, moving to press your lips to his in a quick kiss goodbye, a gesture he eagerly accepted, holding you close for several long minutes before reluctantly drawing apart.

             “Keep drinking water,” he insisted as he pulled his shoes on, “Or tea. Call me if you need anything. I’ll keep my phone close.”

             “Okay Tetsu,” you agreed indulgently as you gently shooed him out the door, “I will.”

             “Okay,” he agreed, “Text me goodnight will you, so I know you actually went to bed?”

             “I will,” you assured him again, letting out a huff of amusement, “Really Tetsu you worry too much.”

             “Only for you kitten,” he retorted with a grin, the same one that never failed to make your heart melt.

             “Yeah, yeah,” you told him, though the soft smile on your face undoubtedly gave away your real feelings about the matter

 “I love you,” he told you seriously, pausing in his trip out the door so he could look you in the eye as he said it.

             “I love you too,” you returned, giving him one last quick kiss goodbye, unable to resist stealing another, “I’ll see you tomorrow alright?”

             “Alright,” he agreed, clearly still a little reluctant, though he did leave in the end. You immediately turned to get back to work on your project, feeling incredibly warm, full, well rested, and ready to get back to work. More importantly you felt absolutely loved, and you made a mental note to return the favor sometime soon, for your amazingly sweet boyfriend.

  <b>He Teases You (and Secretly Loves if You Tease Back)</b>

             “Having trouble there kitten?” your boyfriend asked startling so much you nearly fell over, flopping down on to the couch with an unhappy pout on your lips. You’d been trying to move the extremely heavy piece of furniture for over five minutes now and were on the verge of giving up. You’d been so engrossed in your task that you hadn’t even heard your boyfriend come home from work.

             When you glanced up at him he was leaned against the doorway, still in his suit jacket from work, though his tie was loose around his neck, and his arms were folded across his chest. He had an extremely amused look on your face that told you he’d probably been watching you for a while.

             You didn’t bother to answer his question, considering it had a very obvious answer, and you knew any response out of your mouth was bound to get you teased so you chose to say nothing at all. Not that, that stopped his smile from stretching even wider across his mouth, apparently well aware of your tactics and highly amused by them.

             “What are you trying to move the couch for anyway?” he asked curiously.

             “I dropped one of my earrings,” you admitted with a sigh, figuring there was no point in hiding it from him, especially since you were doubtless going to need his help to get it, “And I can’t reach it.”

             “Oya? That is a problem,” Kuroo told you with a mischievous smile on his face, “If only there was a strong, handsome gentleman around to help you with that.”

             “If only,” you lamented, not about to let him get away with teasing you completely, “Do you think Yaku would come over if I asked?”

             “Yaku?” Kuroo sputtered the teasing smile falling off his face replaced with indignation, “You’d call Yaku for help?”

             “Oh how about Lev!” you proposed unable to help your own wide impish smile, “Lev would help me if I asked I’m sure of it!”

             “Lev?” he repeated incensed, “Lev wouldn’t help kitten, he’d probably trip over the couch or break it!”

             You couldn’t hold in your giggles at that earning a huff from your boyfriend who informed you, “You’re a cruel kitten, teasing me this way.”

             “It’s your fault,” you informed him faux haughtily sticking your nose in the air, “You should’ve just helped me instead of teasing me.”

             “Alright, budge up then kitten, let’s get your earring,” he told you straightening up, and pulling off his suit jacket an amused smirk on his face.

             You did as he asked, watching with a slight pout as he easily scooted the couch away to reveal your missing earring. However you didn’t move to grab it right away slightly distracted by the flex of his shoulders beneath the white button up he was wearing, which was incredibly enticing.

             “See something you like?” he asked pulling you away from your ogling a proud smirk on his lips, that told you he knew exactly what you’d been doing.

             “Mm, always Tetsu,” you assured him, knowing that sometimes the best way to deal with his teasing was with complete and utter sincerity, letting your hand caress his back as you moved to grab your earring, and feeling rather cheeky let it slip lower to give him a firm squeeze earning a surprised inhale from your boyfriend.

 You smiled triumphantly as you backed away, inspecting the recovered bit of jewelry pleased to have it back in your possession and to find it hadn’t suffered for its brief time under the couch.

             However, you nearly dropped it again as you were abruptly scooped off your feet and dumped on to the couch, making you yelp in surprise, an amused grin touching your lips as you saw your boyfriend hovering over you.

             “You shouldn’t tease me like that kitten,” he scolded lightly, his eyes alight with affection and desire.

             “Oh?” you teased, well aware that you were pushing his buttons, “What are you going to do about it Tetsu?”

             Needless to say you lost the earring again and had to make your boyfriend move the couch again later to retrieve it as he showed you exactly what he meant to do about it.

  <b>He Always Has to be Touching You</b>

             “Hey everyone,” you greeted cheerfully, as you and your boyfriend slid into the seats that had been saved for the two of you at the monthly gathering of his former volleyball team.

             The group returned your greetings, all of them well used to your presence by now, as you’d been attending them for over a year now. The minute the two of you were settled in your seats Kuroo had his arm thrown over the back of yours, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder, absently playing with your shirt collar and gently rubbing your shoulder as the two of you caught up with the rest of the group.

             You talked quietly with Kenma about his latest stream, and how his business had been doing, leaning over to watch the new game he was playing on his phone. The instant you were no longer in contact with the hand he’d had on your shoulder Kuroo’s arm shifted to keep touching you his hand finding the back of your neck, thumb gently playing with the small hairs there and gently massaging every now and then.

             When your food came he removed his arm, apparently not even noticing as he absently set his palm on your thigh under the table, while the group listened to Kai tell them about his new store where he’d be selling plants and flowers, which had been his dream for a long time now.

             Throughout the reunion he never really took his hands off of you absently holding your hand, brushing his arm up against yours, pressing your thighs together under the table, nothing too big or noticeable, but constant and reassuring.

             “The two of you are really disgusting you know,” Yaku informed you suddenly, surprising you.

             “Disgusting?” you repeated more than a bit baffled by this abrupt turn in conversation.

             “It’s gross how absolutely cutesy you act,” he expanded rolling his eyes.

             “Cutesy?” you asked turning your gaze to your boyfriend who looked partially amused, partially confused, apparently not sure what Yaku was talking about either.

             “Don’t be jealous Yaku,” Kuroo told his friend faux brightly, never missing a chance to needle him despite his confusion, “I’m sure you won’t be sad and single forever. There has to be someone out there who will have you.”

             It was more than enough to set the libero off, informing Kuroo that he was more than capable of getting a partner of his own if he wanted to, he just didn’t want to right now because of his thriving career. He honestly played right into Kuroo’s hands, as your boyfriend kept gleefully jabbing away at one of his favorite victims. Meanwhile you turned your gaze to someone far more sensible.

             “Are we really disgusting?” you asked Kenma quietly, a little concerned.

             “It’s fine,” he assured you firmly, eyes not leaving his phone as he answered your question, “It’s not like your PDA is any worse than any other couple’s, your just very consistent about it is all.”

             “PDA?” you repeated baffled, your genuine confusion catching his attention his amber eyes flicking up to study yours intently for a moment before seemingly realizing your confusion was genuine.

             “You’re always touching,” Kenma explained patiently, “Even now you’re touching, though I think it’s more Kuroo’s fault than yours. He reaches for you.”

             You wanted to protest that you weren’t always touching, but then realized you couldn’t especially when even though he’d removed his hand from your thigh to gesture rather rudely at Yaku, he still had his own pressed to yours.

             Curiously you scooted away so you weren’t touching anymore, moving closer to Kenma. However, seconds later he followed, not even seemingly to notice as he shifted closer to you, his attention never deviating from his conversation with Yaku. You did it again, with the same results, and again, and again. He always seemed to seek you out, though on the last one his hand had dropped to catch your own, twining his fingers through yours as if to keep you from moving further.

             You let out a small huff of surprise and amusement, gently squeezing his hand in fondness, your heart feeling like it was about to melt at how surprisingly cute his actions were, especially if they really were automatic. The gesture caught your boyfriend’s attention and he broke off his conversation with Yaku to look at you, a slightly puzzled frown on his face.

             “Everything alright kitten?” he asked, “Did you need something?”

             “No,” you assured him with an affectionate smile, “I’m good, great even.”

             “Oh?” he prompted, clearly curious, though he returned your smile with his own fond look, his eyes soft as he watched you.

             “It’s nothing,” you told him with a grin, “You’re just really cute Tetsu.”

             “That’s nice and all,” Kenma told you before your boyfriend had a chance to respond, cutting off what was no doubt going to be some kind of teasing remark, “But can you move? The two of you are squishing me.”

             “Whoops, sorry Kenma,” you apologized unable to help the amused smile as you realized you’d basically been half sitting in the poor man’s lap in your quest to see Kuroo chase after you.

             The former setter merely rolled his eyes in response, though you could see a hint of amusement on his face as you informed your boyfriend it was all his fault for squishing the two of you given that he was the biggest, while he protested rather vehemently, pouting at you the whole time, and claiming innocence.

             Meanwhile you filed another thing you loved about your boyfriend away in your heart, feeling incredibly lucky to have him.

[storiesbymads]

THIS BIKINI’S MADE FORE DANCING (AND HITTING THE FLOOR)³ ( sun kissed desires . )

Y/N finds herself on the lovers cruise she was supposed to be on with her fiancé—ex-fiancé—when she meets a single man in the suite right next to hers.

warnings: smut

add yourself to the taglist + series masterlist

Your morning ventures ended with probably the best mid morning nap you’d ever had in your life. You woke up without a headache, thankfully, and with the way you’d guzzled the water bottle on your nightstand before you’d crashed out, you felt halfway ready to take on the world.

You dug through your duffel bag in an attempt to find one of the twelve bathing suits you’d packed three days ago. Hopefully you’d packed your cute ones, you’d been in such a rush you honestly had no idea what all was in your bag or if anything really matched. Finally, you found a black set at the bottom that was simple enough that it wouldn’t require too many of your brain cells to put on, still being kinda sleepy and everything.

Finding your way to the pool was easy, considering it was in the dead center of the boat. You were surprised to see the number of kids sitting around the edge of the pool when you got down there, feet dangling in the chlorine filled liquid. You glanced down at the phone in your hand to see the time. 12:08. Adult Swim.

You crossed the short expanse of wooden walkway over to the lounge chairs, dropping your few belongings onto the small table beside the single free one you could find before covering your phone and key card with the towel you’d just barely remembered to bring down so the sun wouldn’t wreak too much havoc on them. The chair was surprisingly more comfortable than it looked when you situated yourself on it.

The sound of a whistle sent your head snapping in the direction of the pool only to see a few dozen kids jumping into the water as the few adults scrambled to get out in time.

And, of course, your eyes found Sidney’s in record time. God, how could one man be so pretty? The fact that he was practically dripping wet didn’t help, either.

He had a pair of teal swim trunks on, oddly enough, and they seemed to cling to everything as he climbed out of the water. To you, it felt like he was moving in slow motion, but it probably only took him about thirty seconds before he was walking in your direction. No. Right. To. You.

He shook his head slightly as he did so, attempting to conceal the grin making its way onto his face. God, he’s cute, too.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, louder than the other times you’d spoken with him—you gave that up to the fact that you were outside. He’d still yet to adjust his swim trunks and the tent in them seemed to be staring you right in the eyes.

“Hey, you’re the one that came up to me,” you scoffed dismissively. Sidney just cleared his throat in response, nodding toward his belongings in the seat next to yours. The only thing separating his belongings from yours was the tiny metal table, and even that was covered in your personal items. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he mocked lightly. He opted to sit on the edge of your chair rather than take the last two steps towards his own, the warm skin of his thigh brushing against your own. The barely there touch sent tingles up your spine. You couldn’t imagine what having all of him pressed up against you would feel like.

He picked his hand up off the plastic of the chair, hesitating slightly and letting it rest in the air above your leg for a second too long, before letting his rough fingers meet the smooth skin.

“I’ve been thinking,” he started. “About your offer earlier.”

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as his hand trailed higher up your thigh, dangerously close to the flimsy bow holding the fabric together.

“M-my offer?” you stuttered out.

“Are you sober...” he trailed off, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He was fiddling with the nylon string at this point.

“Y/N,” you hummed out a response. “And, yes. Took a nap and everything.”

“Good,” he said before abruptly getting up so that he could collect his things from his own chair. Your skin felt cold without his touch despite the scalding heat you were being exposed to. He turned back around as he shoved his phone into his still damp pocket, “C’mon, pretty girl. We don’t have all day.”

You practically jumped up from your seat to grab your things, in spite of a chuckling Sidney behind you.

The walk to the lobby happened in what felt like half a second and before you knew it, Sidney had you pressed up against the outside of his room door. Maybe being on the first floor wasn’t such a bad thing.

His hips were pressing into yours, his fingers were bruising against your waist, and his lips. They were everywhere. You don’t even remember when he’d started kissing you, you just know you didn’t ever want him to stop.

He pulled away just enough to leave you panting and chasing his lips.

“I gotta open the door,” he whispered, lips grazing yours as he did so. The door clicked seconds later which allowed the two of you to slip inside only for Sidney to halfway shove your against the other side of the door the second it closed. Your palms fell flat against his exposed chest, slipping lower and lower as the moments passed until you were thumbing the hemline of his shorts.

“Please,” you whimpered out.

“Please, what?” he asked.

“Just. Please,” you answered. His hand found the tie to your top in a matter of seconds, undoing it slowly before repeating the process with the one around your neck and letting it fall to the floor between you.

His lips attached to the column of your throat as his fingers traced the edges of your bottoms. His mouth moved lower and lower until he was circling your left nipple with his tongue.

Stopping suddenly, he rose back up to his full height, motioning for you to jump with two taps on your hip as he lifted it to his waist. He carried you across the short expanse of his room, dropping you on the recently made up comforter of his bed.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” he mumbled before reattaching his lips to yours. He tasted like heaven. There was a faint mint flavor that you chalked up to being his toothpaste mixed with the distinct taste of Minute Maid lemonade and a sweet tea brand you couldn’t identify.

His clothes cock rutted against your core, sending flickers of the sight of him getting out of the pool glittering through your mind again. Those swim trunks left nothing to the imagination.

He shifted lower over your body, tugging your bikini bottoms down in one swift motion and quite literally tossing them over his shoulder.

“Look at you,” he praised. “So pretty and pink and wet for me. You’re dripping all over my sheets, pretty girl.”

One of his digits slipped between your folds, spreading the wetness around as he circled your clit with the pad of his finger.

“I think you’re a little-“ you cut yourself off with a moan when he slipped the finger inside you. “Overdressed.”

“Patience,” he said, inserting another finger into your hole. He curled his fingers in a scissoring motion, eliciting a high pitched gasp to fall from your lips. His thumb quickly found your clit which sent your eyes rolling straight into the back of your head.

“Oh my God,” you whimpered.

“Look at me,” he said. You ignored his comment, head hitting the pillow underneath you only for his movements to stop. “Look at me.”

Your eyes snapped back open.

“I want to see your eyes when you come on my cock,” he said, pulling his fingers from you so that he could shove the teal shorts down his legs just enough for his dick to slap against his stomach.

He grabbed a condom out of his wallet on the nightstand, ripping the packaging open with his teeth before rolling it down the length of his dick.

“Fuck me,” you groaned out as he lined his tip up with your entrance.

“I was planning on it,” he exhaled. He didn’t even give you a second to respond before he pushed in halfway.

“Holy fuck, you’re huge,” you said, unintentionally clenching around him. He shuddered before fully bottoming out.

“And you’re incredibly tight,” he said. It didn’t take him long to find his pace as his hands molded bruises into the sides of your hips.

His lips found your neck soon after, running his teeth lightly along the top of your collarbone as your hands found his hair. You would’ve commented on the softness of it if you had a coherent thought in your head. But all you could think about was the burning pleasure building in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum-“ you repeated like a mantra until your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave.

“I’m right behind you,” he said, hips snapping into yours at an even faster rate. He lasted about two more thrusts before you felt him still inside you. He stayed there for a moment before he pulled out and made his way to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

The thoughts started rushing into your head before the post-orgasm bliss even had the time to fully wear off. You couldn’t believe you’d just done that. Sure, he was gorgeous and, sure, he was practically the most gorgeous man you’d ever laid eyes on. But you were gonna be stuck living next door to him for the next two weeks.

You were already off the bed and grabbing your things from where they’d been dropped at the door—something you didn’t remember doing in the first place—when you heard Sidney turn the shower on. You had your bikini back on before his eyes hit you again.

“You can join me, if you want,” he said as he watched you scramble around his room from where he was leant up against the ensuite’s door frame.

“As much as I would love to do that, I’ve gotta get going,” you said, throwing open the room door and letting it shut before he could get another word out.

You had other things on your plate, anyway. Current mission: find Sigma. She might not be your best friend in the world, at least, yet, but you needed to tell someone about what just happened.

And judging by the way you’d scrounged what felt like the entire ship at this point—not really, you really only checked like three, very public areas—your mission was proving more impossible than you would’ve liked. Then, when you thought all hope was lost, you remembered the teensy tiny little tidbit of information she’d given you this morning when you were in six mimosas. She was staying in Room 215.

“Y/N! How unexpected,” Sigma said as she opened up her door wide enough to let you in. Her southern charm was seeping through every word and it really was no wonder how she’d already gotten married at 23.

You saw a man laying on the bed, thankfully, fully clothed with a remote control laying on his stomach. You heard a woman’s voice coming from the TV and what sounded like a murder documentary.

Sigma was ushering you out onto her balcony before you had time to really search her and husband’s room any further.

“What’s this surprise visit all about? I thought you’d gotten of me this morning,” she said as the two of you sat in the bolted down, metal chairs out there.

“You know that really hot guy in the room next to mine,” you said.

“No,” she exhaled. Maybe you’d forgotten to mention that this morning. Course, you barely remembered anything you’d mentioned this morning.

“Well,” you started. “There’s a really hot guy in the room right next to mine. And I may or may not have just hooked up with him.”

“You’re kidding!” she gasped.

“I almost wish I was,” you groaned, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“Was it that bad?” she asked with a wince. You looked over at her with a dumbfounded look on your face.

“It was the best sex I’ve had in my life,” you said.

“So, what’s the issue?”

“I don’t know. He’s kinda like my neighbor for right now, and somehow we manage to bump into each other everywhere we go. I just don’t want things to be even more uncomfortable for me on this stupid boat.”

“Honey.”

“I know, I know. It’s dumb,” you sighed. “I’m just not ready to get involved with another guy. Not after what happened with Max,” you said.

“Look, sweetheart. You’re never gonna find someone if you don’t give yourself the chance to open up. And who says this whole thing with your supah hot guy has to go any further than it has. I say if you get the chance, go for it.”

“Get the chance?”

“To have sex again! According to you, it was the best sex, like, ever.”

The next twenty minutes went on like that until Sigma’s husband practically forced her to go back inside and get ready for something. You took that as your cue to leave.

You were glad you’d gone to find her today. As weird as a start that you’d had for your friendship, she was probably one of the easiest people you’d ever had the opportunity of talking to.

The walk back to your room was quick. That was when you realized the only item you currently had in your possession was your phone. And not your key card. You knew you’d had it before the incident with Sidney and you were sure you’d grabbed everything on your way out of Sigma’s room. Which left one option. It was still on Sidney’s floor.

Sighing, you dropped your head in defeat, walking the two steps it took so that you were face to face with the wooden door you were pressed up against over an hour ago. Your hand hovered in the air until you worked up enough courage to actually knock.

“Here for this?” he asked, holding up the white card in one hand after he opened the door just wide enough to see you.

“Yes, thank you,” you said, reaching out to grab it from him only for him to pull it back, inches from your grip.

“You could’ve just gone to the front desk,” he said.

“I-“ you started. “Forgot that was an option.”

“Why are you always wet when we see each other?” you asked with an eye roll as the door swung open.

“Actually, I distinctly remember you being equally as wet when we met earlier,” he said.

“You’re insufferable,” you scoffed.

“And you’re adorable,” he said before actually handing over the key.

“Says the guy that takes hour long showers,” you said.

“I got a little preoccupied.”

“Uh-huh,” you hummed.

“You sure you have to go to your room?” he asked, tantalizingly slow, allowing his words to hang heavy in the air around you as his tongue slipped past his lips. Your eyes stayed glued to the water droplet running down his throat.

“I guess-“

“Well, come on then. Wouldn’t want you getting cold out there, pretty girl,” he said, the hand still holding your key card clasping around your wrist as he pulled you into his chest, and consequently, back into his room.

tags @kiedhara @thefootballfaithful @stuetzlesumlaut @penstxgal1968 @linkingdolans @englishmuffinwritesbooks @mrsvech37 @honeybearbarzal @burningbiatch @hannabritta @monalicia @mymanshawn @butgilinsky @pierreslucdubois @damndunner @klutchnetsov @stampiej @punkharts @heatherawoowoo

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

Wicked Ones

(A Max Phillips x Reader Smutty One-Shot)

Summary: So, a couple months ago I was sent THIS POST like 900 times by all of you screaming at me because I tagged it as “Max Phillips” so...here it is. This is straight up PWP--Max is the big shot boss that we know and love and you are his long time girlfriend. You both call out in favor of staying home and spending some quality time together--but he has an important meeting that he just can’t miss...no matter what he is doing when he gets the call.  

Pairing: Max Phillips x Reader Word Count: 3k Warnings/Ratings: NC-17/18+ - smut, pwp, choking, dirty talk, rough, teasing, established relationship, vampireness, slight exhibition kink, hand-over-mouth, having sex while on the phone with your job--MAX. BEHAVE. (spoiler...he doesn’t)

[MASTERLIST]

You weren't sure how this had started. This insane competition between the two of you that seemed to be escalating with each round. It was attributed to the fact that you were both stubborn, cunning, and meticulous in your efforts to please one another. But it had to stop sometime. Right?

If you had to think about it, it probably was your fault. It probably all started on that day you brought him lunch to his office. But it wasn't food that you had in mind. You locked his door, twisted the blinds closed and dropped your black pea-coat revealing the white lingerie that he had gotten you on your anniversary. He seemed to understand then--you were lunch.

He was a walking cliché in the sense that white was his favorite color on you when it came to lacy underthings. He liked the way balconette bras made your breasts into pillows perfect for sleeping, or biting. He liked the way you always wore your panties on top of your garters, meaning he could take them off first and keep the latter on to frame the swell of your perfect ass. And he liked the way the white made you look like something about to be sacrificed, and he was the willing volcano. His second favorite color on you was red...typical.

That day he had spread you out on his desk and eaten your pussy like a man starved. No paperwork was safe from the way you swept your arms above your head when he sucked your clit. Unless they were deaf, you were certain everyone in the office had heard you whine his name as he pounded into you hard enough to make the wooden desk creek with protest. But then again, no one dared say anything because he was the boss. Making you, his girlfriend, untouchable.

This morning you had both called out in favor of staying in bed tangled up with one another. And this was the day you realized you were destined to lose this war.

"Max…" you said breathlessly as you put a hand on the headboard above you to push yourself against him as he pounded into you relentlessly.

"What is it, sweetheart? You like waking up to my big dick? Beats the hell out of going to work--" he grit his teeth and gripped your hips, yanking you down the bed and slamming himself inside of you to the hilt.

"Yesss," you whined, closing your eyes and palming at your own breasts.

It was moments like these that Max made you feel incredibly desirable. His desperate, needy nature in the sack was the exact opposite from his calm and collected management style in the office. You did that. You broke that composure down to its purest form and it was a rush of power so exquisite you coveted it as a prized possession.

“Come here,” he growled as he leaned down and picked you up enough to roll you with him to where you were straddling his lap and he was sitting up against the pile of pillows on your now disheveled bed. His large hand came down on your ass cheek and he grinned. “Fuck yourself on daddy’s dick.”

“Max!” you laughed as you put your hands on his chest. “You did not just call yourself daddy--fuck..” You bit your lip as you started to bounce on his lap, the new position making the movement more intense. The head of him hit the end of you easier and it was a pleasant sharpness deep within your lower abdomen.

“Too much?” he chuckled, and the sound went right to your core.

“You’re always too much.”

“And you love it,” he smirked.

"Nah, I only do this for the extra vacation d-AYS!" You yelp when he pinches your nipple in retaliation for your jest before grinning as you fall into a fit of giggles.

"You're bad, you know that?"

"Says the vampire." Before you can continue to ridicule him, he leans up and kisses you hard, stealing any bite that was left to your words.

His lips were almost as bruising as his fingers that were digging into the soft flesh of where your hips met your ass. You felt the solid press of his fangs inside his mouth and you hungrily asked for more. He opened and gave it to you, letting your tongue trace along his own, and up to his teeth. It had taken a long time to perfect the art of kissing him. You had lost count of the number of times you had nicked your tongue or lip when your mouths and bodies were intertwined. But, Max was a patient man, and it helped that practicing was extremely enjoyable.

He pulled back abruptly and shoved two of his fingers in your mouth, barely giving you time to draw a breath. "Suck--good girl." He grinned and he felt your cunt clench around him as he praised you. His fingers pulled from your lips with a soft pop and he shoved them between your bodies to play with your clit as you continued to ride him.

"S-shit," you breathed, the action bringing you closer to the edge. "Is this my payback for earlier this week?"

"What? That little stunt you pulled in my office?" He shook his head after you gave a nod. "No, your payback for that was me eating that perfect pussy on my desk--now everyone knows how good I make you feel."

Although you knew you should--you didn't care. This was part of that power trip that Max seemed to give you when the two of you fucked. And, well, if anyone did dare to say anything...he would eat them. You were certain he had made it his mission to fuck you all over that corporate building before they sent him to his next assignment at another branch.

"Did Evan hear?" You teased, knowing full well about his past with the previous acting sales manager.

"Why do you think I moved his desk closer to my door?" He snarled and flipped you back over, pinning you to the mattress and jack-hammering his hips against you hard enough to make you cry out.

"Fuck!" You yelled as you dug your nails into his back and held on for dear life. The both of you knew that if you said 'stop', he would, but like hell you wanted him to slow down when your orgasm was so close.

"You good?" He panted as he looked down at your scrunched up face and you nodded.

"Right there. Right-there-right-there-right--" your jumbled pleas fell from your lips in a truly embarrassing manner but you were beyond caring. You were just so close.

His cellphone started to ring on the nightstand to your left and he slowed his hips and the both of you looked at it. The flat black device buzzed so violently that you thought it might fall off the edge. Max continued to piston his hips against the backs of your thighs in such a way that you thought he was going to let it go to voicemail. You should have known better.

"Don't move," he said in a tone that it made you clench around his dick. He groaned as he put his left hand on your lower abdomen as if to hold you down, and leaned over the edge of the bed to grab his bluetooth with his right. "Max Phillips," he said, formally as he slipped the device over the shell of his ear and adjusted his knees back between your thighs. "Yes. Sure, that's fine."

You let out a small huff as you looked up at the ceiling and then back to your boyfriend kneeling between your legs. Surely he wasn't going to just sit there, buried in your cunt while he took a fucking call? The thought made you want to cross your arms at him in annoyance. The both of you had called out for a reason, to avoid your jobs. But despite his skills in delegation, Max was a workaholic--even if he refused to admit it.

"Yeah, I do apologize. I woke up and just felt terrible--"

You raised an eyebrow at him as a small grin slowly overtook his well-kissed lips.

"Is this a good time?" He looked down at you and you started to shake your head, eyes widening as if you could suddenly read his mind. "Actually...it's a perfect time. Fire away."

He thrust forward again, sheathing himself inside you to the hilt and grinning when it made your back bow off of the bed. "Max!" You gasped his name and he put three of his fingers in your mouth, gripping your chin and pushing you back down on the pillows, causing a small gag to come from your throat.

"No, that's just the TV." He chuckled and you swear you felt the sound against your clit. "Yes, I'm sure. I'll turn it down...make sure it's quiet."

You opened your mouth to protest not only the situation but his oh so loving metaphor of speaking about you as an inanimate object. Instead, he leaned forward, clapping his large hand over the bottom half of your face. You yelped against his palm and it just came out incredibly muffled. He put more pressure on your body as he held himself up with one arm and let the full weight of his pelvis and belly press against you as he resumed his thrusts.

"Yeah, I originally told them I wanted thirty percent--"

Your eyes were wide as you looked at him, desperately trying to convey with a look how hard it was to be quiet when he insisted on continuing to rail you. You gripped the sheets on either side of your hips and he shoved your leg up higher with his knees and the tip of his cock stroked that beautiful spot deep within you.

"Mhmm," you moaned against his hand, the sheer patheticness of your own voice shamefully making your libido spike. He had you. This was his show. The bedroom was currently his boardroom and as always he was running it.

"No, that's bullshit," Max shook his head, not even sounding like he was exerting himself in the slightest. "They're trying to low ball you, Ted. We talked about this, remember?"

He removed his hand from your mouth and grabbed a handful of one of your breasts. You arched into his hand, biting your lip as he tweaked your nipple. Obviously only half listening to what was being said on the other side of the device, he gave you a wink and your heart did that mildly annoying flop that it had been doing quite a lot lately. He gave your nipple a small tug and when you squealed, he slapped your tit roughly, stealing the sound from your throat with pure surprise.

"Oh...oh fuck, Max," you breathed quietly, but apparently, not quiet enough because he stopped thrusting.

"Just a minute--yeah, just one second, Ted." He clicked the mute button on his earpiece and looked down at you sternly. "Now, if you can't be quiet, I'll make you be quiet." He gave a deep grind of his hips, pressing his cock slowly back into you and you pressed your lips together in a firm line to stay silent. Max smirked, "There’s a good girl."

Oh, you were going to get him back for this.

Max clicked the button again and said, “Alright, champ. I’m back.” He leaned down and kissed you hard, the press of fangs against your closed mouth, a silent promise that made your clit throb. "Yeah, put him on."

Max pistoned his hips against you as they obviously tried to conference call in a third party. The squeak you gave when he hiked your left leg over his right shoulder was apparently justified because he didn't chastise you for it. "Bryce! Talk to me, baby, what's going on? Ted tells me you're thinking about backing out of our arrangement."

He turned his head and nipped the inside of your calf, smirking as you bucked your hips up against his pelvis. You gripped the pillow and shut your eyes tightly trying to think about all of the ways you could one up him--and yet all you could think about was how this new angle had the tip of him brushing against your cervix. It hurt, but in the best way, a short, blunt, feeling followed by the pleasurable drag of his length back through your heat.

He pinched the fleshy part of your skin where your ass met your thigh and mouthed for you to 'open your eyes'. When you complied, he continued.

"Here's the thing, Bryce. A deal this big might be scary at first--but you're never going to reap the rewards if you don't take the risk!" He leaned forward on his knees, pressing your leg back towards your chest and sinking deeper into your cunt. "When you have an opportunity like this in front of you, you have to grab it. Sink your teeth into it, and don't let go until. You. Are. Balls. Deep."

He accentuated each word of his disgusting metaphor with a hard thrust and you reached for him, desperately wanting to hold him close, bury your hands in his hair, anything. Instead he held himself up by locking his left arm rigidly on the bed and grabbing your throat with his right. Your breath caught, and the moan you were about to release was nothing more than a silent vibration against his fingers.

“You heard me--” Max grunted as he slammed his hips against you. “So, just tell me--” He gave a hard thrust and a deep sound of exertion. “What I want to hear--” thrust. “And we can both walk away--” thrust. “Richer men.”

He was close, you knew it, surely he wasn’t audacious enough to finish while he was still on the phone. Who were you kidding? It was Max--of course he would.

You reached up and tried to shove his face to get his attention, put your fingers in his mouth like he had done to you earlier. He obliged and turned his head to suck your pointer and middle between his lips with a loud ‘pop’, laving them with spit. You took the opportunity to then shove them between your legs and play your clit in time with his sloppy thrusts.

“Perfect!” Max said suddenly, and loudly enough to startle you, causing you to buck up against him. “That’s what I like to hear! Ted will send over the paperwork and I’ll get it on Monday--fuck, shit--no, Bryce not you--” he bit his lip and squeezed your throat. The added pressure was just what you needed to peak over the edge of your orgasm. Your eyes rolled back and you hand stilled between your legs as you clenched down around his cock and it was apparently enough to bring him with you.

“Max!” You said, strained against his grip around your neck as you leaned up into his body, and held on tightly to his sides.

“Yeah--yeahthatsoundsgreat--Bryce, shut up. Ask Ted--bye---fuuuuuck!”

Max all but flung the Bluetooth across the room as he collapsed almost his full weight on top of you. He buried his face in the crook of your shoulder and groaned as he came deep inside of you, hot and hard like his breath against your already flushed skin. You clung to him, drawing full breaths now that his hands were occupied with digging into your back.

“I can’t--” you panted against his hair as you turned your head to kiss his temple. “Believe you just fucking did that.”

“What?” he chuckled against your collarbone as he held you tightly and grunted as his cock gave a last twitch inside of you. “You think those big wigs never have a Skype meeting without their secretary under their desks sucking their dicks?”

“That’s different--gross. We’re not debating this.”

“You have to admit, it was at least kinda hot--” he grinned against your skin as he kissed from your pulse point down your clavicle, to the tops of your breasts. You rolled your eyes, putting your hand in his hair as he continued to nibble on all of your weak spots.

“Don’t think you can use your mouth to get out of trouble. I mean it Max--” you words stopped as he took one of your nipples in his mouth and bit down gently.

“Uh huh, yes, of course, sugar tits--ow!” He laughed as you gripped his hair and pulled at the nickname you hated. He settled his face between your breasts and you kept your tight grip on his hair.

“I swear to god, if you try to motorboat me right now, I will kick you out of this bed.”

“You’re no fun.” He pouted as he kissed down your stomach and you slowly loosened your grip on his hair. His hands slid down your body, over the swell of your hips, pausing only briefly to cup your ass as he walked his knees down the bed.

“And where are you going?” You watched him, raising an eyebrow as he rolled his eyes back up to you with a smirk.

“Using my mouth to get me out of trouble--lay back,” he breathed gently against the insides of your thighs and ran his tongue along the front of his teeth. You knew he wouldn’t out right ask, but if he made you come again, you’d gladly let him feed from your thigh.

“You sure you don’t have another phone call to make?”

“It’s going to be awhile before you quit holding this over my head, isn’t it?” he chuckled.

“Oh, you bet your ass, it is. Get to work, Mister.” You put your hand back in his hair and pushed his head down against your cunt. The moment his mouth opened to envelop your clit, you leaned back against the pillows with a heavy, contented sigh and closed your eyes. “Hmm, that’s the ticket...champ.”

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[santacarlasweetheart]

Back Door Man

hi! this is the first fic i have EVER written ! based on my honey @theyreonlynoodlesmike ‘s hc (that cracks me up every time) that Paul has a thing for married for women <3

Warnings: swearing, discussions of sex, paul being gross 

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An unmistakable howling laugh echoed off the walls of the cave. 

David looked up from the book in his lap to see the tall, slender blonde bounding down the entry stairs. “Do I even wanna know what kinda trouble you just caused?”

Paul laughed, tossing his head back as he rocked on his heels “Oh man you guys are gonna flip-”

“At this point you couldn’t surprise us if you tried Paul.” Dwayne hadn’t turned to look away from the crate that held a portion of their vinyl collection. Kneeled down next to it and flipping through records, he was seemingly uninterested in the other man’s antics. His indifference was simply an act though, he was always willing to hear about his friends’ escapades.

“Nah nah nah, this is a new one.” Paul had made his way over to one of the couches by now, opening up the large steamer trunk that acted as both storage and a makeshift coffee table. “So,” he spoke as he dug around in the trunk, looking for his pot stash to roll himself his usual post romp joint. “I was with that babe from the diner, ya know-”

“Wow, never heard this one before.” Marko commented from beside him on the couch, cutting Paul off before he could even name the woman in question.

“Wouldya shut up and let me tell my story! Jeez, anyway,” He was bent over his rolling tray now, nimble fingers quickly moving through long practiced motions. “She takes me home. It’s this real nice place in the suburbs, cute lil’ house. So, we’re gettin’ down to business,” He wiggles his eyebrows, mostly to himself, but also on the off chance one of his friends might actually be paying attention to him “Right on the living room couch dude, she didn’t even bother to take me to the bedroom.”

“Nice.” Marko says and at the same time David sighs out “Gross.”

“Yo, Dwayne you want me to roll you one before I put this shit away?” Paul paused his story, he might have been Santa Carla’s biggest sleaze but he always had manners when it came to his friends.

“Yes please.” The brunette responded as he finally settled on a record, standing up from where he'd been crouching. “Might make your grossness a little easier to stomach.” A smile tugged at his lips as he turned to join them in the sitting area.

“So,” Paul huffed out a laugh, both at Dwayne’s response and the direction his story was going in. “I’m like, straight up goin’ to town on her,” He leans back in his seat, tipping his head back as he raises his voice for emphasis. “She’s screaming, clawin’ at my back and shit. Like a damn cat in heat. And then.” He pauses to lick the joint between his fingers and pass it to Dwayne. David rolled his eyes at the lull. He thought after sixty-something years he’d be used to Paul’s inability to smoothly tell a story, but that day was yet to come. “And then I hear somethin’, sounds like a car pulling up in front of the house. I dont really think anything of it because fuck if I care right?” He pauses yet again to put his own joint into his mouth, light it and take his first hit. “I keep goin’. I’m tryna get my rocks off after all. She’s tugging at my hair and shit. She's got this absolute vice grip on my-”

“PLEASE don’t say dick.”

“My waist, you fuckin’ pervert,” And if that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black. “Absolutely screaming my name, the neighbors could probably hear.” 

“Paul,” Marko said, turning in his seat on the couch so he could look at his best friend. “This sounds exactly like every other sexcapde you’ve ever told us about.”  As Marko was chastising him, Paul had started to shrug out of his jacket, and that’s when the dark brown splotch on the shoulder of his white shirt came into view. “Is that fucking blood!?” Marko was painfully aware of the way his voice came out almost like a screech.

David’s head actually snapped up at that, tossing his book into his chair and moving to sit on the arm of the sofa in one fluid motion. “Jesus Christ, Paul.” 

Dwayne looked over at the three blondes, his brown eyes gone wide and his brows knitted together in concern.

Paul barked out a laugh, “I'm getting there you dipshits! Also, I’m obviously fine, creature of the night just like you three. Remember?” His companions relaxed slightly, he did have a point after all. However, he now had their full attention. “Where was I? Oh yeah yeah, I’m nailing her and suddenly. The fuckin’ front door opens.” 

David pinches the bridge of his nose.

Marko’s eyes widened slightly, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline. He was pretty sure he knew where this story was going. 

“Oh man!” Dwayne was starting to giggle as he leaned back into his chair.

“It’s her god damn husband,” Pauls talking with his hands now, the way he always does when he starts getting to the good part of his stories. As he gestures, Marko plucks the joint from between his fingers and takes a drag. “Not boyfriend, not fiancé. Husband. He was supposed to be on a business trip or some shit I don’t know. Point is, he was home early and he was pissed.” 

“He walked in on you screwing his wife,” David interjected as he slid his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Of course he’s pissed.” The other three men snickered at his remark.

“Dude starts screaming. At me, at her, oh my god it was madness. I’ve never pulled out so fast in my life.” 

Dwayne chokes on the smoke he had been pulling into his lungs and doubles over, laughing between coughs. “Ya know what,” He says as he rests his cheek against his knee, “For some reason I believe you.”

“He got outta that pussy at warp speed.” Marko giggled quietly. 

“Hey, hey hey!” Paul said as he turned to Marko, taking the last hit off the joint. “It’s my story, I’m the one with the jokes here.”

“Can we please get to why you're bleeding.” David said, gesturing at Paul’s shoulder. 

“Yeah yeah, grouchy bitch.” He drops the roach into the closest ashtray, settling into the couch to finish the rest of his story. “I grab my shit and I’m tryna get outta there. Zero interest in being in the middle of the start of the divorce-”

“Like you’re not the reason for the divorce.”

“Pants on, shoes on, shirt halfway on, jackets in my hand. There was no way in hell I was gonna get between them, so I turned my happy ass around, go to the kitchen. Hopin’ and prayin’ this place has a back door-” Paul’s abruptly cut off by Marko barking out a laugh.

“I’m a back door man!” The smallest blonde belts out, poorly and off key.

“Imma. Back. Door. Man!” Dwayne joins in, tilting his head back with his eyes shut. Like he’s singing to the ceiling of the cave.

David can’t help the little smirk that forms on his face, hearing his friends poorly belting out The Doors’ version of what they had decided was Paul’s song. Paul is currently grinning like a maniac and isn't bothered by yet another interruption of his story. “Okay, okay. Get on with it.” 

“Right yeah, we’re comin’ to the end here. Thank the lord in Heaven, there was in fact a back door. A screen backdoor that slammed behind me, you guys know how fucking loud those things are.” Paul sighs. “I take off, climb the fence, but “Mr. Can’t Satisfy His Wife” comes out behind me, onto the porch. Next thing I know, I hear a gunshot.”

“Sweet Christ.” David mumbles.

“He fucking shot you Paul?” Marko practically growls. Paul looks over at him nonchalantly and nods, smirking ever so slightly at Marko’s protective rage. 

“Dude.” Dwayne says as he adjusts himself in his chair yet again, “You gotta stop sleeping with married women.”

“Not a chance in hell Dwayne-O.” Paul says, his face splitting into a full grin, like he's the cat that got the cream.